Torque
by Rocket Owl
Summary: The Dark Warrior Project comes to fruition and the Baron has a new right hand attack dog, Keira is forced to work with the Underground to get her friend back and to save Haven city. Without the Precursor's blessing, however, it'll take all her skills just to stay alive as she follows a destiny not meant for her.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **yeah yeah i know guardian is on hiatus im so sorry. i get sidetracked easily. okay so this fic could never have come into fruition without the help of Blu and Krocatoo. go check out their tumblrs (bluandorange and krocatoo, respectively). super short prologue but we'll get to the good stuff soon.

the usual **disclaimer**, i don't own jak and daxter or any of it's characters, i just thought keira got shafted by naughty dog so im rewriting the story with her as the protag. here we go

* * *

**Prologue**

_2 Years Earlier_

The ground was hard and cold and artificial. The air tasted like it had been laced with tar. The smell was even worse. And the noise- Precursors, it was almost overwhelming. And so many _people_. More than had ever lived in Sandover, more people than she had ever seen before in her life.

Keira leaned back under the overhang of the large metal building, watching in silence as they walked across the enormous streets in droves, though most held their heads down and avoided eye contact even amongst each other. Those that didn't walk flew above the pedestrians on vehicles that looked suspiciously familiar. Unfortunately, they were about the only familiar things she could find. Jak, Daxter, her father, even the rift rider itself, all were gone. The latter was in pieces, blown up after they'd flown into the face of that... monster, and scattered all over this place. She still held one of the cogs from it's internal mechanisms in her hand.

Her father's last words hadn't been helpful. Hadn't even been directed at her. 'Find yourself, Jak'? What was that supposed to mean? Where had they all gone? Were they safe, had she been the only one to make it entirely through the rift and end up in this place? A tremor of uncertainty shook her and she frowned to herself, squeezing the cog hard enough that it left imprints on her palm.

She'd never been alone before. She was injured from her landing – her back and shoulder ached periodically as if to remind her of the hard fall she took – and this whole place was strange and unfamiliar. There was no one to help her. No Daxter to lighten the mod with his stupid jokes or her father to give her advice or Jak to save the day. Just her and her and what she wore on her back.

Keira trembled again.

What on earth was she going to do?

–

It was past noon when Keira started coming up with a plan. Hungry and hurt and tired and _lonely_ as she was, with no way to fix any of these things, her mind started working at her problems like it was a puzzle. She was always good at those; she'd built the zoomer, after all, had worked out the cages and traps that had held the eco sages for Jak to be able to break them open.

Problem 1: Food. There were a few street vendors and some shops along the roads, and a bazaar off through an underpass looked like it had some stalls too, but they were using currency that she had never seen before, so she'd be unable to buy anything. That left stealing or trying to sweet-talk a shopkeep.

Problem 2: Injury. She assessed herself thoroughly and came to the conclusion that it was mostly bruising and a bit of scraping along her back, where she'd skidded on the concrete. Overall, she'd been lucky, and only needed time to heal, assuming she was able to feed herself and find someplace to rest.

Problem 3: Shelter. Tied in with her money problem. She didn't trust any of these strangely dressed people to provide her a place for the night for free, and she had nothing to pay anyone with.

The logical solution, then, was to find a way to earn money to fix all of these things. Seemed simple enough to her, and it was at least a _plan,_ which was more than what she had half an hour ago. The only issue was that she wasn't sure what she could do in this world that would give her the money she needed. She couldnt' perform quests like Jak and she didn't have her father's botanical prowess.

...But she _did_ have her mechanical expertise. And if the appearances of the various types of zoomers were anything to go on, they were probably similar enough to her A-Grav prototype that she'd be able to figure them out with relative ease. Or at least, so she hoped.

The pictures along the walls and being projected off of the sides of the buildings around her, made of moving light or paint on paper, showed many different things. Some for recruitment for something called 'The Krimson Guard,' something related to a clothing store of some sort, a few advertising a bar in the 'docks', wherever that was, and most importantly for her, a rather large one that spoke about zoomer racing at a place called the Stadium.

Keira approached the sign and looked it over. A racing track, then, and despite herself her little fifteen-year-old heart quickened with excitement at the very concept. When she'd built the A-Grav a few months ago she hadn't even been sure it would be ready to fly, and yet here in this city the denizens had already worked out a sport. Surely they'd need a mechanic?

Taking note of the address on the bottom of the sign, Keira flagged down a passerby, got directions, and set off down the dusty street.

–

The stadium itself was one of the biggest, grandest structures she'd ever seen. And after her demonstration to the head mechanic, it was now also her home.

Farley, a tall, heavyset woman in her late fifties, had been skeptical when Keira showed up on her doorstep looking for work and she clearly had thought of her as barely more than a child who'd gotten it in her head to run off from home, but after some quick thinking to invent a story of losing her family – which wasn't entirely untrue – she'd offered to give her a chance.

She'd taken Keira around to one of the smaller garages on the side of the structure and had told her that if she could repair one of the busted zoomers stored there by the end of the day, she'd get the job. Farley had intended to leave the girl there for a few hours to keep her safe and out of trouble before gently nudging her out the door, but to her surprise the teen just picked up a tool box, opened up the chassis correctly, and just studied the inner workings. Then, deliberately, she set to work, carefully and delicately fiddling around with the guts of the machine, and an hour later Keira had presented the now-fixed zoomer to be inspected

Farley gave the nervous girl an appraising look. She was no pro, but she had talent, and had clearly been around vehicles before. And even though the zoomer that she'd fixed almost didn't start up, Farley knew that given time with it the girl would probably be a damned good mechanic.

"You earn your keep, okay?" Keira nodded at the elder woman. "Tell you what, if you help me out around the shop, take on some of the chores 'round here, I'll let you stay in this garage. It's got a little apartment attached to it. Once you're on your feet you can start taking your own clients and working for your own team. Then you can start paying me in cash. Besides, I'm getting too old for this stuff, so new blood's always welcome."

Keira straightened up further and nodded again. "I won't let you down, ma'am."

"I'm sure you wont." Farley smiled and held out the key for her to take. "Tomorrow morning, you be in my garage at eight'o clock sharp, yeah?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Just Farley, sweetie. Now go get cleaned up, you look like your came out the rear end of an exhaust port. I've got chilli on the stove I can share with you, skin 'n bones as you are."

And thus, Keira had ended up warm and fed and with a place to call her own by nightfall. And she'd done it without Jak or Daxter or anyone else. Because of that she knew she'd survive. She _had_ to, because she had to rebuild the rift rider to get all of them home.

The cog from the original rift rider now sat on some twine around her neck and as she sat on the edge of the stadium, high above the city, she ran her fingers over it. A reminder of her goal. She would work on it whenever she had time, would keep an eye and ear out for the others, and when they were all ready, they would go home to Sandover and leave this polluted, crowded place behind.

Keira could do it. She _knew_ she could.


	2. Chapter 1 - I Know That Voice

**Author's Notes:** the response for this has already been really amazing. Just. Wow. Thank you guys I appreciate all the support. Also, to clarify! I have tweaked the ages for Keira, Daxter, and Jak by a smidge to make them a little older. She's 17 here now instead of 15 or 16, Daxter is the same age, and Jak is 18. other than that, this should be pretty straightforward!

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_Present Day_

"Ugh!" The thrown wrench easily crushed the metalbug that had been skittering along her work bench but sent the rest scattering for cover over the sides and into the vents, the only thing visible being the slight glow of their gems. Keira made another noise of disgust and rubbed the bridge of her nose, eying the splatter of bug guts, small skullgem, and dark eco that the creature had left behind. Great, just what she needed. A damned _infestation_.

A lone metalbug was not that dangerous, or even much of a problem. All it took was a well-timed boot or something else with weight to kill them. But when they swarmed they could wreak havoc, chewing through metal and wires and leaving dark eco residue everywhere. Not to mention the fact that in groups they could overwhelm and kill the unwary. As annoying as it was, Keira knew she wasn't equipped to deal with this new problem, and as much as she'd rather not she was going to have to shell out cash to get it fixed.

Farley laughed when Keira called her up, although it was more sympathetic than mean-spirited. Still, she assured the younger woman that there was a reputable exterminator that she could call up and gave her the comm number.

"I hear their newest recruit single-handedly dealt with the biggest infestations in the city, too, all the way up to the Palace. You should be able to get your money's worth."

"At least that's something." Keira grumbled, glancing back into her garage. Already she could see the little yellow glints creeping back out from their hiding spots. "Thanks, Farley."

The guy who answered her call to Kridder Ridder Extermination Company seemed a little eccentric, and he reminded her a bit of her father, but he agreed to send out his best employee to her garage to fix up her bug problem for her. Nothing left to do but to sit outside away from the pests and wait for him to show up.

Keira sighed and sat down on the curb, resting her chin in her hand and drumming her fingers on her knee. With the next round of races coming up within the next couple of months she had lot of work to do if she was to finish the zoomer for her team- and hell, to find someone to actually _race_ for her. Commander Erol was a good customer when he wanted his ride fixed up but he had his own mechanic this season, so she had to look elsewhere if she wanted to keep her garage open in the Stadium. Not to mention her work on the Rift Rider, which had to be put on hold _again_ while she worked out how to keep her job going.

Thus, this buggy interruption didn't do much for her mood.

When the sound of a scooter reached her nearly forty minutes later, coming to a stop about two meters away, she looked up and huffed. About time. As she stood she opened her mouth to start asking what had taken the guy so long before stopping short and staring; a very familiar orange rodent had hopped off of the bike and had begun pulling out gear from a compartment in the back of his ride.

"Alright, where're the bugs?" She _knew_ that voice. "And let me tell ya, the pay better be _darn_ good for this, because I just about got my tail kicked in by that metal creep on the last job and I'm _still_ sore so you're lucky you even got _Orange Lightning_ out here for this-"

"Daxter?"

The ottsel stopped and stuck his head out from around the scooter, blinking at her, before he shouted in absolute glee and ran up to leap into her arms.

"_Keira!_" Her hands came up reflexively as she caught him and he buried his face into her neck, holding the front of her shirt tightly. Oh yeah, it was him alright. "Precursors, it's good to see you! You would not _believe_ the crap I've had to deal with the last few months!"

It was almost surreal. Two years without seeing hide nor hair of him, of _any_ of her companions, and then suddenly he showed up more or less on her doorstep. Was this really happening, or had she gotten exposed to too much dark eco from the metalbugs and was hallucinating all of this? After a few moments of simply holding him, feeling his warm fur and coming to the conclusion that this was, indeed, real, she tightened her grip and hugged him close.

"It's good to see you too, Daxter." _Very_ surreal. But very good.

It didn't take long for him to squirm back from her, though, and she let him hop down from her arms so he could look at her, and vice versa. If she didn't know better she'd say he'd grown a little taller, and his stance had changed from slouchy and utterly carefree to something a bit more alert and upright, but he still had his cocky little smirk and quick tongue. It was a comfort to see.

"Looks like you've been busy. A gig at the Stadium, huh? Guess you always were good with stuff like that." Daxter looked past her at her garage and winced when he saw the metalbugs. "Yeesh, you weren't kidding about the bug thing either."

"Yeah, it'd be nice to get those things _out_. I'm surprised though. _You_ being the exterminator?"

Daxter glowered as he pulled on his backpack, belting his gear into place while he explained. "Eh, I got forced into this bug wrangling crap the last few months by a guy named Osmo, and then one thing led to another and I turned out to be pretty good at it. And then I figured I'd need to go find you 'n our boy Jak, but then I ran into this creepy sleazy guy named Kaden, who turned out to be a metalhead in disguise, and-"

"_What?_"

"Oh, uh, yeah. Turns out that he was actually a spy for the metalheads. It's all good though- yours truly took him down without a _single_ scratch. Now, lemme just get ridda those pesky bugs in your shop 'n call it a day."

He didn't seem particularly concerned with the implication that there could be _more_ metalheads in disguise running around inside Haven's walls, and Keira was still too shocked by the news to come up with anything to say. So she watched him march past her with his spray gun and head into her workshop to begin clearing out her infestation.

Shaking her head, she sat back down and waited for him to finish, thinking. It seemed unlikely that the metalheads would send too many of their own into Haven; from what she knew of the monsters, most of them lacked the intelligence to manage it, and besides, the more that _were_ here the more likely they would be found out.

Small comfort, though.

Daxter finished up within a couple of hours and presented her with a sack of skullgems as proof of a job well done. Her garage, now bug free, was safe, and he hopped up onto her workbench as she poked around just to double check. No sense leaving even one of those things scuttling around if they could help it, though Dax seemed almost offended that she would even look.

"Bagged'em all, baby. I've been workin' this job for almost a year- believe me when I say I kill bugs faster'n a drunk falling off a zoomer."

"That's...vivid." Daxter just grinned at her, and despite herself she cracked a smile. "So are you going to head back now?"

"Eh, Osmo's gotten a lotta work out of me already and I think it's time to retire. Besides, hangin' around the stadium is a lot more likely to get me ladies than with that old geezer."

Keira folded her arms and cocked her head. "That 'old geezer' gave you a livelihood, from the sound of it."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing out the door towards his vehicle. "I guess I gotta return the scooter, at least."

"I'll give you a lift."

–

Osmo was a strange man who talked a lot about bug infestations 'back in the day', but he charged her fairly and that was really all Keira cared about at the moment. He took the news of Daxter's resignation well, at least once the ottsel pointed out that his son _did_ have potential, and wished him luck with his future jobs, whatever they were.

"Yeesh, I thought he'd _never_ stop talking." Daxter grumbled, hopping up onto the handlebars of Keira's personal zoomer. "What is it with old people and yakking so much?" That got her to roll her eyes.

"At least he was polite." She offered, starting up the zoomer and heading off into traffic.

"Yeah, better than old logger-the-head ever was, that's for sure."

Keira glanced down at Daxter and hesitated; she knew he'd never really gotten along with her father, not even when he'd been young and alone, but she still wondered if he'd kept an eye out for him. Jak, definitely, given that they'd been inseparable, but her father was another story.

"Hey, Dax, did you ever...?"

"No. Never saw ancient green. Or Jak either." His voice lost its playful tone, and he hunkered down further against the zoomer. "Honestly? I think I'm lucky to have just found you."

"I see." That was disheartening, but she hadn't really been expecting anything else. Two years was a long time to look for people but it hadn't been like she'd had a whole lot of luck finding the others, either. Daxter seemed to pick up on her drop in mood, though, because he rapped his knuckles against the headlight of her zoomer.

"Seems like you've been doin' well, though. A garage 'n everything." He grinned back at her. "Even better- you're a racing mechanic. Betcha get a lotta work with that sort of gig, 'specially with the tournament coming up. You always were good with all this tech stuff. Must be pretty awesome, huh?"

His tone was back to being light, and she managed a smile as she brought her zoomer down to glide towards the stadium walkway. Count on Daxter to keep things from getting too depressing. Gosh, she'd missed him. "Yeah! It, ah, it definitely has its moments."

And some not-so-great moments, too. Given that racing was the biggest sport in the city there was a lot of shady dealings that went on around it, and in Haven City the one with his hands in the most pies was Krew. So when they returned to her workshop and found a message waiting for them, in the form of one of Krew's men, Keira couldn't say she was entirely surprised.

The man looked up when they approached and he straightened up from where he'd been leaning by her door, folding his arms to look more imposing. Keira glared at him and marched past him with her zoomer, much to his obvious consternation. Daxter scampered past him with far more wariness.

"What does that creep want _now_, Mog?" Keira parked her vehicle in the corner of the shop and turned to face her unwelcome guest, hands on her hips. "If this is about his last shipment of parts, tell him I've already left it at his warehouse."

"Krew ain't askin' about the parts. He jus' wanted me to talk to ya about the upcoming races."

"What about them?"

"Jus' a friendly reminder not to work too hard on any zoomer's besides the ones of the racers he bets on. Wants to make sure they have the edge."

"I got it." It went against a lot of her personal morals to have to agree but the fact of the matter was, Krew could make her life here so much harder than it already was. She had to look out for her own skin, as selfish as it sounded, and if giving a select few racers the advantage if they chose to hire her meant being secure for another season, then so be it. "Now get _out_. I've got work to do."

Mog ignored her, staring down at Daxter now. "What's with the rat? You get a new pet?"

"_Excuse_ me?" Daxter hopped up onto the workbench so he could more easily meet Mog's eyes. "Who're you calling _pet_, you big smelly yakkow? Why don't you say that to my face instead of- mph!" Whatever insult he'd been trying to say was cut off as Keira quickly clapped her hand over his snout. Mog glowered at the ottsel, then at her.

"It talks?"

"A lot, yeah. Get _out_, Mog." She waved him off with her free hand. "Don't make me call the Commander out here." The large man put his hands up, taking a step back at the threat.

"I got it, I got it. Just don't forget what Krew says, 'kay?" Without further ado he turned around and left, letting the garage door fall shut behind him. With a sigh, Keira let go of Daxter and ignored his indignant spluttering. It was always tiring having to deal with Krew's thugs, no matter how briefly, but she really did have things she needed to get done that day.

"What the hell was all of that, anyway?" Daxter muttered, smoothing the fur on his face and watching her duck around the curtain that hid her long-term project from the main part of her garage. "You 'n old greenhorn always hated cheaters, and here you are _working_ for one?"

"I _can't _be picky with people like Krew, Daxter. If I don't do what he wants then he can ruin everything I've worked for."

"Just doesn't seem like the Keira I know and love." He grumbled, hopping off the workbench to follow her through the curtain. "Seems like this place is- hey, is that what I think it is?"

The Rift Rider was nearly complete. Two years of on and off working, entirely from memory, had left Keira exhausted but pleased. Daxter was staring at it now, blinking twice, before hopping up onto the chassis to get a better look at it.

"Sheesh, you ever take a break from tinkering?"

"This is our way home. I couldn't just give up on it, and since I'm pretty sure there aren't any Rift Rider dealerships around here I had to build it myself."

"From scratch?"

She tapped the gear that still sat on the twine necklace, nodding. "From everything I could save, but yeah, mostly. Do you know how hard it is to find all the Precursor artifacts I needed? It's part of why I have to do things for Krew now. Every Precursor-related object tends to go through him before it hits any of the markets, so I had to make some deals for the more specialized stuff."

"And if you don't stick to the deal and do things for him-"

"He runs me out of business, yeah." Keira sighed again, frowning down at the hood of the time-machine. "I don't like this place. It's dirty, and crowded, and a lot of people here are really creepy and greedy. But it's not done, and even if it were, we _can't_ leave without Jak and my father."

Daxter snorted. "I agree with you about _Jak_."

"Daxter."

"But yeah, I'm with ya. Except I haven't seen either of'em in ages. So where do we start?" Keira looked up from the chassis to him. Surely he wasn't serious. If she'd known where to look then she would've been _searching there_. But she supposed they did need a plan. Just somewhere to begin.

"I guess we can start searching the city more thoroughly?" She shrugged and pulled on her work gloves, grabbing her welding torch and mask, and kneeling down to continue her work. "I'll admit that there are a couple of places I haven't explored a lot, and with you around we can cover a couple of sectors in a day, maybe. See if there's any sign of either of them." She paused in her work to flip up her mask and smile at him. "At least with us together we're already halfway there."

Daxter grinned back at her. "Works for me. Say, got any grub? I'm _starving_."

"There's a fridge in the back corner of the shop." Was her reply, flipping the mask back into place and muffling her words a little. "Help yourself." The sound of Daxter's feet hitting the floor and moving out of the alcove let her know he was taking her at her word.

For several long minutes after that the only things she was aware of were the sounds of the torch welding together sections of the chassis, the sparks flying from the metal. Comforting, familiar sensations. And the very new realization that she was no longer alone. Daxter came and went from the alcove, watching her work for a few minutes before growing bored and wandering off to look through the rest of her space. She didn't mind, just glad to have the company. Just trying to get used to the fact that she _had_ company.

Eventually, though, he got her attention by putting shaking her shoulder a little. She blinked and shut off the torch, flipping the mask up again; zoning out while working was something she was very used to, so it was a little jarring to have someone around that could bring her out of it so abruptly.

"Mm?"

"Some Guard came 'n left this on your door. Figured you'd wanna take a loot at it." He held out a flyer, emblazoned with the Baron's insignia, which she frowned at the sight of. Some sort of notice from the palace, then? Surely she hadn't done anything to warrant that kind of attention. Pulling off her work gloves, she took it from him and flipped it further open.

"It's... notice for an announcement, to be held tomorrow morning at the stadium." She murmured, flipping it over to read the finer print. "The Baron himself is coming out, apparently."

"He's coming off his high throne for once?" Daxter scoffed. "Must be pretty important." Keira caught him eyeing the pile of rags in a box that was just conveniently ottsel-sized, almost nest-like, and she poked his chest lightly.

"Attendance is _required_, by the way."

"Ugh. Fine. At least we can keep an eye out for Jak 'n the old green one, if everyone _has_ to show up. But I'm sure as hell gonna catch a few z's before we run through any crowds tomorrow. Gotta catch up on my beauty sleep 'n all that." He slumped a little and folded his arms, though he smiled again when she laughed.

"Then let's get you all set up, huh? I get the feeling tomorrow's gonna be a long day anyway." A very long day indeed.


	3. Chapter 2 - Not Like Ours

**Chapter 2**

"This isn't going to work."

"Hey, it's not _my_ fault you got thin shoulders."

Knowing that they were going to head into crowds to listen to the announcement later that morning, Daxter had proclaimed that he was going to need a boost so that he didn't get his tail crushed. With Jak, it would mean riding on one of his shoulders. With Keira, it meant having to figure something else out. So far, nothing was really working.

"Ow! Not on my head!"

"Oops."

"What if I just carried you instead?"

"I _ain't_ a pet, y'know."

"People carry their kids to stuff like this all the time."

"I ain't a kid either!"

She put her hands on her hips and stared down at him, chewing her lip thoughtfully. He folded his arms and looked up at her in return, scanning over her as if looking for a decent place to perch. Given her very slim build, though, there really wasn't much to go on.

"Hang on- I've got an idea." Keira held up her hands before darting to the box of scrap metal that sat on one of her shelves, pulling it out and digging through it quickly. If her memory served her correctly – and her memory was _very_ good – she had a semi-curved piece in here that had once belonged to a hovercar chassis that would be _just_ perfect for what she had in mind. When she found it she grinned and set about grabbing leather straps from another box, a few rivets, and then moved over to her work table. A little adjusting, putting it on for measurements, riveting everything into place, including the padding for the inside, and...

"What do you think?" Keira tightened the last strap and turned to look at Daxter, who was watching her with a dumbfounded expression. With just the bits laying around her garage she'd made a sort of epaulette, albeit one that only went over a single shoulder, that made a sturdy platform for Daxter to be able to grip and stand on.

"Damn, you work _fast_." He sized up the jump, then made the leap up to land on her shoulder. He was surprisingly heavy and she had to brace herself to keep him steady, but it seemed like a big enough surface for him to ride comfortably. "Yeah, this should work out fine."

"Excellent, because otherwise I wouldn't know what to do." And not a moment too soon; the announcement was due to start within half an hour, giving them enough time to slip in and find decent seats. She wasn't really interested in what the Baron had to say these days, at least insofar as his usual rants that played on loop in every sector of the city. She could imagine that Daxter cared even less. But gathering up the whole city for this? Now, that might be something worth listening to.

So it was that Keira, with Daxter now on her shoulder in a strange sort of deja vu of his time with Jak, left her garage and made her way to the Stadium entrance. There was already a large throng of people lined up, and a few were pushing and shoving to make space for themselves as everyone bottlenecked at the gate, where they were all checked for weapons. Nothing to do but deal with it until they were through, the guard giving Daxter an odd look but allowing them to pass, at which point Keira gratefully sat down in the nearest open seat.

"I remember why I stopped buying tickets to the races." She muttered, elbowing someone who'd shoved into her side on their way past. "Looks like everyone in the city really did show up for this, though. I've never seen this place so packed."

The crowd of people would normally have been buzzing with excitement if there'd been a race. People would be calling out to take bets and hand out concessions and cheering on their favorite racers, making a din that could be heard as far away as the edge of the agrarian sector. But today there was tension in the air, and more than a few shoulders were stiff as everyone in the mass waited for the rest of the stragglers to take their seats and for the announcement to begin. There were at least a few people who genuinely wanted to see the Baron, though, and they chattered excitedly.

The moment the gates closed, a platform rose up from the center of the race track, carrying a group of soldiers that clustered near the back of it. Keira couldn't quite tell who was in there but she spotted differently colored armor. Probably the Baron, at least. Erol was there, off to the side, hands clasped behind his back as he watched the crowd. Ashelin, the Baron's daughter, also stood on the platform, flanking the group with Erol. And someone else, in the back, who was blocked from sight by more of the heavily armored guards.

An unarmored man stepped forward first, though, once the platform hovered into place close enough for the crowd to see him clearly. He tapped his mouthpiece and smiled, raising his hands up. A hype man, Keira knew, who usually worked for the races but who, today, had another task on his plate. The holoscreens all over the Stadium flickered to life and cameras floated up to surround the platform.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming out today!" He called out, only moderately assisted by the loudspeakers. The crowd cheered a little, though whether it was for him or out of fear of retribution for being so skittish, Keira couldn't tell. "It's good to see so many of you made it. We've got a few very special guests with an important new update to give you all! If you could direct all of your attention here, and if you would be so kind as to give him a warm welcome, it is my honor and privilege to introduce to you..." The hype man stepped out of the way and gestured as the guards parted, letting their leader through. "Baron Praxis!"

The Baron was a very tall, broadly built man. Imposing. The cybernetics on his face were a testament to battles fought in the past and he moved with a steely, confident grace that made his strength clear, and that he felt very secure in his power.

"Citizens!"

His voice was much louder, booming over the huge masses of people through the speakers, and the cameras shifted their focus to him so his face could be clearly seen by everyone, even to the farthest rows. Daxter grumbled and mashed his ears to his skull, huddling down against her neck and cheek as though she could block out the noise. All Keira could really do was reach up to put her hand over his fuzzy shoulders reassuringly while the Baron continued on. She only paid half her usual attention, surreptitiously trying to scan the crowds around her for their missing companions.

"The war with the metal heads has cost us much. Many of you have lost family and friends to their brutal, senseless attacks. But it will not drag on much longer!" Whispers erupted around Keira and Dax at the Baron's old, bold promise, and the pair of the exchanged a look.

"Think he's finally gonna take on the nest? It'd be about time!"

Keira shrugged slightly, setting him a little off-balance, before returning to her crowd searching. "Maybe, but I doubt it. If he could have he _would_ have by now."

"Maybe somethin's come up that's changed his odds, then."

On the platform the group of Krimson Guards began moving again, arcing around the back of the platform to make an impressive backdrop as the Baron went on while also revealing the last non-helmeted figure. His next words got her attention, and when she looked back on the moment later she would almost wish she hadn't seen her friend like this. Hadn't _found out_ like this.

"We now have a way to beat those monsters back. Something that can fight those monsters on their own turf without falling to dark eco sickness." He was saying, while gesturing for the newly visible man to come forward and stand beside him. "I give you the result of years of hard work. The Dark Warrior."

The face that came onto the huge holoscreens took her breath away. Blond hair. Blond hair with _green at the roots_, but so much shorter than she remembered. Long ears that stuck up and out further than most other havenite's. And very, very familiar blue eyes.

Judging by the hiss next to her ear she wasn't the only one to recognize their friend, now dressed in a unique Krimson Uniform, complete with a slightly modified insignia that shone on his chest. But something was wrong, something much deeper than a troubling uniform. His eyes were no longer bright and twinkling as they had been under the Sandover sun but hard and cold, his expression set as he observed the crowd dispassionately. Alert, but otherwise unaffected by the crowd's increased cheering at the first tangible proof that the battle with the Metal Heads could be won in their favor. Even so, there were many uneasy faces; for the Baron to admit something was dangerous didn't bode well for them.

Keira and Daxter exchanged looks, and for once the ottsel had nothing to say. Keira tuned out the din around them, barely aware that the Baron was going on about how arduous the project had been. Jak? _Their Jak? _What on earth was he doing with the Baron? What made him a 'Dark Warrior?' What had the Baron _done_ to him? She swallowed hard, past the lump that had formed in her throat, and listened close for the next bit.

"From this day forth he will be handling missions against the Metal Heads within the city, and then move outwards. A warning to you all, however," And Praxis raised a large hand and pointed at everyone assembled. "Do not interfere with him. To do so would be treason, and he is dangerous. Anyone who meddles will suffer dire consequences."

Aggression? _Jak?_

With her stomach settled somewhere under the floor, she waited for the announcement to be concluded. Something about increased patrols and urging from Erol for recruits to join up followed the Baron's words, but she didn't really hear any of it. Her eyes were glued to Jak, who had stepped back as soon as Praxis had finished, and it was only when it was all over that she moved again.

The crowds were claustrophobic now, crushing her on all sides as she tried to worm her way through faster. She had to get out of here, had to get back to the safety and privacy of her garage so she could just sit and _think_...

Daxter leapt off her shoulder to the table the moment the garage door shut behind them. Fur bristling a little along his shoulders, he looked just as agitated as she felt as he turned and looked at her.

"That was Jak, right?" Keira whispered, running a hand through her hair as she started pacing around her workshop.

"Yeah." The ottsel's eyes followed her, his frown just as deep as hers.

"What was he _doing_ with the Baron? How could he be working for them?" There were only a handful of decent people in the KG, or so it felt. Even Erol had warned her to keep her head down around most of the troops, violent as they were. And he was a Commander!

And now Jak was part of that? Goofy, adventurous, fun-loving Jak? That man on the platform had looked like him, true enough. Older, but the features were the same. And yet the way he'd behaved was nothing like what she remembered of him. Two years couldn't change someone _that_ much, could it?

Then she noticed Daxter shifting uncomfortably, looking by turns upset and angry. She paused in her pacing to really look at him, and he wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Dax...?"

"I knew the Guard had him." He muttered, so low she almost missed it. "Wen we crashed they were waitin' for us. They even said so. They just... _grabbed_ him." Keira stared at him as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"...Why didn't you go after him?"

"I _had_ plans to find him again, I swear I did – y'know, with the exterminatin' business? How they can get into places and snoop around – but I just got..."

"Sidetracked." She finished quietly, glancing towards the Rift Rider, still hidden behind the ragged green curtain. "Yeah."

Daxter went on, though, voice rising. "Thing is, we did get into the fortress – y'know, when I fought that Metal Head in disguise? – 'cept when I got there he- he wasn't in there, no matter where I looked. I thought he must have escaped. I'd _hoped_ he'd escaped." He fell into silence, looking up at her with a very distraught expression; something she hadn't seen on his face in years. "He's our buddy _Jak_. He can do _anything_."

Anything. He could defeat Gol and Maia where _four sages_ had been unable to. He could beat down hundreds of lurkers with just his fists and feet. He could channel almost every type of eco – a feat that was just about unheard of and that he'd done regularly and almost without thinking. He could do _anything_.

And apparently Praxis had somehow known that and wanted Jak on his side.

Keira slowly sat down and put her face in her hands. Dammit, if only she'd known, if only Daxter had been able to get into the fortress before whatever had happened to Jak had happened...

A little warm paw rested against her shoulder and she looked sidelong at Daxter, still perched on the table. "We can get him back, right?" His brows were furrowed, but his tone was hopeful. "The Guard's shit but the Baron-"

"No." Whatever they did, they couldn't go through the Baron first. The man was a warrior, with decades of experience, sitting in a fortified castle and surrounded by hundreds of guards. And now Jak, too, probably.

Daxter deflated, though he didn't seem surprised, and sat back on his haunches with a low sigh. "I suppose just askin' nicely's out, then?"

"Since when have _you_ ever asked nicely?" The ottsel blew a raspberry at her and the moment of levity got her to lift her head again. "But no. He's not exactly a reasonable man, y'know." As if his near-constant ranting over the loudspeakers wasn't proof enough of that. And if Jak had been with him for two years she was no longer surprised that his sunny smile was gone. What worried her was that it may be for good.

Keira bit her lip and wondered what they could do. Surely Jak would come with them once he saw them again. He'd want to go home as much as the rest of them. And once he joined their little group he'd be able to find Samos and help her find the last few parts of the Rift Rider. He could fix it all. The trick was just getting to him.

Clearly Daxter was pondering the same problem. "So he's working with the Guard now, right?"

"It looks like it."

"There's gotta be a few good guys in the KG, right? Someone who'd help us get in touch with him or something?"

"I don't know if any of them would dare cross the Baron for us, but maybe if we tricked them..." Then it struck her, and she stood up abruptly with a sudden grin. "Erol! He's high up in the chain of command, and he'd know where to find Jak when he's off-duty."

"_Erol?_"

"Yeah. He was one of my first clients and helped spread word of my shop. He's always been kind to me." Besides, he'd always told her that if there was anything she needed all she had to do was ask. He was the best person to talk to about the whole Jak situation, and the most accessible by far. Something in Daxter's expression made her pause, though, and she raised an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"Erol was one of the guys that grabbed Jak when we first landed here! Just waltzed right up to 'im with a couple'a lackeys and picked him up right then and there!" Keira stared at him, confused, and he went on with even more vehemence. "He was at the fortress, too! He's close to Praxis. What if he was in on it the whole time?"

"We- we don't know that." She muttered. Maybe he'd just been following orders. Maybe Jak had been mistaken for a convict. Maybe Erol didn't have much to do with it at all. Maybe he really was part of the whole scheme to get a hold of Jak in the first place.

It didn't matter, anyway. Not when it came to finding out what was going on with the 'Dark Warrior'. In either case, Erol would still be the best source of information, and she intended to use him as such. Although this revelation did change what she could say to Erol when she eventually got around to questioning him. If he found out she knew Jak personally it would likely push him away, which was something they couldn't afford right now. She got the feeling any and all sources of information and help would be needed.

Daxter was still giving her a stern look, so she sighed and nodded. "Maybe you're right. I'll be careful when I deal with him. Promise."

* * *

It took a few days for Erol to swing by her garage again, and during that time Keira and Daxter worked out a routine. Every morning she'd wake up well before he did, eat breakfast, read the news. He'd get up, groggily, usually after she finished reading, and took the comics section of the paper while he had his own breakfast.

She'd open up her garage for business and get to work for a few hours, always keeping an eye out for the Commander or any sign of Jak as she fiddled with various zoomers left by clients. Daxter would watch her or scamper off to the docks to visit a barmaid he was particularly fond of, usually worrying Keira to no end until he came back in the evenings safe and sound. Then it was time to work on the Rift Rider, as much as she could without the missing parts, while he assisted by bringing her various tools. At first she'd had to help him, naming which ones she'd wanted and describing them carefully, but he'd learned soon enough and helped speed up her repairs enormously.

Then bed; the mattress for her, a crate she'd dug up and lined with blankets and pillows for him. And then the whole thing over again the following morning.

It was just after her regular garage work when Erol came around, before Daxter came home from one of his many outtings. He brought a zoomer mod with him, a legal but faulty one apparently, for her to fix up so he could get it put back into his ride. His own mechanic was apparently too ham-handed to handle the procedure himself.

The Commander was all politeness with her, as usual, and smiled at her as she tinkered with the mod. He leaned against the counter she was working on, watching her handle the delicate tools needed to solder in a few loose wires and bits that had been knocking around inside the casing. An easy fix, for her, and she even managed to smile back when she wasn't concentrating too hard. Even so, he was perceptive enough to notice that she was acting differently with him.

"What's on your mind, Miss Hagai?" He asked, eyes on her face now. She blinked and looked up from her work; this hadn't been how she'd intended to bring up the subject of Jak but she'd have to say _something_ or risk him getting suspicious of her new behaviour.

"Oh, um." She frowned a little, letting her unease show more clearly. "I was just thinking about the Baron's announcement the other day. About the Dark Warrior?" Erol scowled a little and looked away. Interesting; he wasn't happy with it either.

"Ah, _that_." Erol drummed his fingers on the workbench; the metal of his gauntlet 'tink'ing against the table was loud in the otherwise silent room. Keira didn't speak, watching him as she waited. "He's a monster." Said the Commander at last. "An eco freak. I don't know what the Baron was thinking when he started that blasted project."

Her eartip twitched a little, but she still didn't say a word yet. Erol's face was dark and forbidding. That wasn't just dislike; that was outright _hatred_. Of Jak, or the project?

"Surely he's not so bad?" She said hesitantly, after a few minutes had passed. "I mean – he seemed okay enough on the podium. Not angry, anyway. He's got to be nicer in person, right?" Erol turned to her again, putting a heavy hand on her shoulder, looking at her with a great deal of _concern _of all things.

"Do _not_ go near him, Keira." He squeezed her shoulder a little. "Please. He's dangerous. The Baron's done things to him to make him into a living, breathing war machine. He's _not safe_. And I don't want anything to happen to my little mechanic, alright?" It frightened her. Erol was a bit arrogant even on his best days, and for him to admit, even indirectly, that he was worried about what Jak was and how dangerous he could be...

Nothing she could say would get him to reveal more on the subject, and she finally agreed to avoid the Dark Warrior, lying through her teeth, to assuage his worries. They both dropped the subject, and perhaps ten minutes later she was screwing the case of his zoomer mod back into place.

"Thank you, Keira." He passed her a stack of credits, his gloved fingers brushing over hers as he deposited them carefully in her hands. It didn't seem to be an accident. "I'm sorry again that I couldn't take you on this year; my zoomer never runs as smooth as when you work on it."

"It's fine," She assured him, pocketing the cash and waving the issue away. "I've got enough clients to keep me afloat this year, especially if you keep coming back with little side jobs like this." More opportunities to question him, hopefully once he was calmer about the subject.

To her surprise Erol stepped a little closer. "I hope you wouldn't mind if I came back just to visit? I patrol this area sometimes, after all, and your company always makes my days better."

"I- oh! Uh," She smiled up at him, hoping it didn't seem as forced as it felt. Even a few days ago this sort of advance would not have been unwelcome, but now that she wasn't sure what his part had been in Jak's capture she actually felt a little _anxious_ at the idea. But... "Of course, Commander." She needed him, at least for now.

"I look forward to it, then." He took her hand, kissed the top of it, then turned and left her garage. Keira stood still for a few moments, staring out into the dark evening well after he'd disappeared, before a flash of orange in the corner of her eye got her to whirl around.

Daxter had apparently been hiding behind the green curtain with the Rift Rider, although he most certainly hadn't when Erol had arrived.

"How long have you been there?"

"Half an hour, maybe. I heard most of it." He folded his arms and raised an eyebrow at her. "Didn't know you 'n Erol were a thing."

"We're _not_." Was her firm retort, and she began to put away her tools, ignoring the ottsel as he stared at her. Eventually he gave up and hopped onto the workbench the moment it was clear.

"Sounds like our Jak isn't our Jak anymore after all."

"No..." Their Jak wouldn't be dangerous to just approach, and would not set a man like Erol on edge. From what little she'd gathered, it had been the Baron's idea to begin the Dark Warrior program, and Jak had ended up trapped in the middle of it. Her mind went back to the near-blank face he'd had when being presented and she shuddered a little. "We have to help him. We can't just... leave him like that."

"I didn't say we were gonna." Daxter hopped up onto her shoulder as she closed up her garage, setting all the locks into place. "Just means finding him's gonna be tougher than we thought."

Keira got the feeling that that wasn't going to be the only difficult thing about getting Jak back.

* * *

**Author's Note:** three months later and one cross-country move later and I still live. Also I figure erol can't have been a total dick to keira or she'd never have been so quick to defend him in jak 2. and jak is back! Sort of.

Poor sod. The shit i'm gonna do to him and keira and everyone. If you hear cackling in the distance that's just me.


	4. Chapter 3 - Making Contacts

And heRE we go we are rolling along with the plot. Meeting people, getting things in motion, all that good stuff.

Thanks again for all of the kind reviews and favorites and follows! I'm so glad people are enjoying this story so far. I know I am.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

The first riots broke out less than a week later.

The general mood of the populace in the days following the announcement of the Dark Warrior had declined. Rumors sprang up everywhere about the strange man, the monster. He grew horns and claws, said some. He could turn into a Metal Head. He fought with a ferocity that was unnatural. He was the son of Kor himself. He could grow to ten feet tall and smash down a building with a single swipe.

Some of that was obviously hyperbole, blown out of proportion by fear and inconsistent word-of-mouth. Perhaps some of it had been started by the Krimson Guard itself as another threat to keep everyone in line. A few details, however, had to be true. He'd been seen fighting by enough people as he'd been sent into various neighborhoods to root out Underground safe houses and operatives.

Few people were sure, though, and the young man's expressionless face was more terrifying to some than even the rabid snarling of the metal creatures he hunted. It was unnatural, some said. _Unnatural_. They couldn't understand how he could be so stoic, so emotionless, in the face of the war against the Metal Heads. All anyone knew was that, wherever the Dark Warrior fought the Metal Heads, there was mass destruction and many civilian casualties. That was enough for most.

And people were, if nothing else, very good at fearing and hating that which they did not understand.

The Krimson Guard were quick in their attempts to crack down on the unrest, trying to prevent the riot from going city-wide. The Water Slums, where the unrest was at its greatest, were sealed off, which only caused more panic within the sector itself. People got scared, and cornered as they were, they lashed out at the Guard. Even Praxis' voice over the intercom calling for calm and order did little to stop them once they were in such a state.

When the troops failed to keep the situation from escalating, the Baron sent his pet project to deal with the issue. And deal with it he did.

–

"This is the _last_ time you take me on a parts run!" Daxter hollered into hr ear as they ducked around the mob. Keira didn't reply, saving her breath as she sprinted through gaps in the buildings and leapt to other walkways to evade the Guard that were now forcing their way deeper into the sector.

It was supposed to be a simple pickup run. Brutter had left her a dead drop of old Precursor stuff near one of the tunnels in the walls, in the back of the sector. He usually gathered up such odds and ends for her, in return for her sabotaging slaver cars and fixing his own machines. Most of the stuff he got was junk, usually, because all the good stuff passed through Krew's hands. But every now and then she'd find something valuable enough to sell in the pile of stuff, or something usable in the Rift Rider.

If she'd known all this was going to happen, though, she wouldn't have bothered coming. But there'd been no way to predict this, not until people had begun gathering on the walkways and on the roofs of the houses here, all listening to one man's shouted accusations.

Everyone had been restless before, worried as they were about the Metal Heads, the corrupt Guard that often shook them down as much as Krew's gang, their own horrible living situations. The news of the Dark Warrior had finally trickled down to the slums, and that had been the straw that had broken the yakkow's back.

All they'd needed was someone to motivate them to _do_ something, and that had come in the form of a tall blond man wearing a torn cloak, shouting about the 'true purpose' of the Dark Warrior: to control them through fear. How the Baron had always done so, and that if they ever wanted to rise up above their oppressors, in the form of the Warrior, the KG, the Baron, they would have to face their fear and band together.

And people had begun to cheer him on. They'd begun to agree and, more than that, had decided to _act_ on it.

Thus, the fighting in the Water Slums now. The cloaked man had disappeared quickly enough when the Guard had stormed in, but that didn't necessarily mean much. The crowds were thick, and they had other things on their mind right then, which included escaping the district before the KG subdued everyone and rounded them up for treason.

A blow to her back sent her rolling, and Daxter barely leapt from her shoulder in time to avoid being crushed. The pack of Precusor supplies on her back dug into her spine, but she forced herself to ignore it, fearing that a red eco blast would be next. Keira quickly scrambled back to her feet, glancing behind her to see the Guard who'd attacked her being knocked aside by a man with a plank ripped from the walkway itself. All along the paths she could see similar acts of violence with no signs of letting up.

Daxter made a pained sound and her attention turned immediately to him, then to where he was staring one she realized he wasn't being stepped on, far across the slums. A KG transport had landed, but instead of more troops disembarking, there was just one lone figure.

It was Jak, and it wasn't. Jak didn't have grey skin, or horns, or solid black eyes. He didn't have claws or teeth so sharp they looked like they could rip through armor. Most importantly, he _didn't_ radiate dark eco.

The man – if he could still be called such – began prowling down the walkways toward the bulk of the fighting. The civilians that saw him coming fled immediately, many of them leaping into the filthy waters below or retreating to their ramshackle homes. Those that didn't were less lucky. The Dark Warrior was quick to target the most violent of the rioters, shoving them aside with zaps of purple lightning. His claws tore into flesh, his snarls scaring the remainders into trying to escape the fight.

And still he didn't stop, his focus shifting to the support struts of the buildings next.

Keira couldn't watch anymore. Whatever that was, that wasn't Jak. She wouldn't believe it. Scooping up a frozen Daxter, she continued running down the walkways, away from the horrific screams and the sound of wood and metal splintering. A crash echoed through the slums as the first building fell, sending ripples through the water as it came down, but she couldn't look back.

The blockade where the Dark Warrior had come in from was still up and strong, but there had to be another way out of the district. An alleyway, maybe, or a way to get up to the roofs of the surrounding buildings. Either way, she'd have to make a decision quickly; either the Guards in the blockade would see her, or the Dark Warrior would turn around and catch her.

Daxter squawked out a warning too late. While she'd been scanning the walls for a gap, handholds, _anything_, an armored hand closed on her arm and spun her around. Keira gasped and tried to pull back, pulling Daxter closer as though to protect him from whatever the KG holding her would do to them, but the man's grip was strong.

"Let go of me!" She hissed at him, kicking him in his armored shin and getting a bruised toe for her trouble. The Guard, unusually unmasked, was watching her sternly; his calm was a strange counterpoint to the carnage going on behind him.

"Don't run." He told her quietly, glancing behind her at the blockade, then back at the destruction behind him. "Running attracts his attention."

"What?" Keira blinked at him, confused. Was he referring to – and she refused to think of him as Jak right now – the Dark Warrior? The Guard squeezed her arm and led her towards the blockade, at a leisurely pace instead of her previous mad scramble, in spite of the screams and shouts that erupted around them. She dug her heels in, afraid he was going to arrest her.

"Calm down." He muttered, nodding at another pair of Guards as they saluted him. Oh, hell, he had some rank for them to do that. "I can't get you past the checkpoint unless you play along."

She fell silent, eying him, but gave in for now. Daxter was blessedly holding his tongue; she wasn't sure how she'd explain a talking ottsel, and she didn't want to ruin their relative good fortune. From the way he was glaring at the KG that guided them, though, she could imagine what he'd _like_ to say.

The Guards at the blockade gave them looks, but the man holding her arm told them curtly that she 'and the orange rat' were in his custody already, and that would deal with them himself. They let them pass after that, none the wiser and clearly intent on the destruction of the Water Slums, thought it wasn't until they'd turned the corner around one of the parked Guard cage cars that he released her arm.

She pulled away instantly, in case he really was thinking about cuffing her, but when he made no move to follow she frowned.

"Sig, get her out of here." He said, looking over her shoulder. Keira turned and saw a tall, dark-skinned man, taller than even the Guard, observing her with one raised brow. One of his eyes was cybernetic, glowing red faintly, and he held a wicked staff casually in one hand. On top of that he was decked out in armor; clearly, he wasn't a native to Haven. But he didn't seem as though he were about to be violent. "I'm going back for more noncombatants."

"Wait-" What the hell was going on? A Guard had just let her go, had helped her, in fact, and she was supposed to ignore the implications of that? "Who are you? Why'd you help us?"

The Guard grimaced, glancing around. "Look, kid, you have to leave now, before others start hauling prisoners back here and catch you slinking off." When she opened her mouth to argue he simply held up a hand. "All you need to know is that not all of the Guard agree with the Baron. Especially not his new policy of setting the Dark Warrior on every little problem. That's what makes shit like this," and he gestured back towards the slums, "Happen. Now get going."

Unwilling to stick around and get caught, and not wanting to risk angering the helpful Guard, Keira pressed her lips together and nodded before turning back towards the man called Sig.

"C'mon chilli pepper." Now his face was split with an affable grin, and it did wonders for her comfort level right then. "Let's get out of here before they decide to come 'n bring the Warrior around for a mop up run."

Part of her wanted to protest that she didn't really need anyone to guide her along, but she didn't see a way out of this right now. They were still close to the blockade, and if any of them turned around and saw her wandering off alone they might go for her. Having an obvious warrior such as Sig with her might be enough to dissuade them.

So after Daxter got settled back on her shoulder, she nodded to him and trotted close behind as he led her further away from the destroyed district.

–

Sig was a friendly enough guy, overall. 'Efficient' was the word Keira would use to describe him. He clearly knew his way around weapons and his posture a were enough to let her know he'd seen battle many times in his life, as if his missing eye hadn't been enough to guess by.

The only other person she'd seen that in was Jak, after defeating Gol and Maia.

"So..." She began slowly, having to jog very few paces to keep up with his longer stride. "I take it you knew that Guard?"

"Arvo? Yeah. Got me out of a spot of trouble a few years back, right after the Baron took over. Pretty decent guy, for a KG. Served before the Baron was in charge, so he knew what it was like before." Sig kept looking around as they spoke, on alert as they entered the dock district. The putrescent smell of the water was enough to make her nose wrinkle, and she heard Daxter grumble a bit about it being 'worse than the swamp.'

"When the Baron took over?" She frowned a little. Praxis had made it seem like he'd come into power naturally, as though he'd been voted in or inherited the position. But, then, she'd only lived here for two years, and none of that time had really been spent on learning about the world more than necessary. A stupid thing, she realized now. But not as stupid as putting off her search for Jak.

Jak, who'd just leveled the Water Slums. Something the Jak they knew would _never_ have done, not ever. She put a hand on her head, trying to make sense of it and failing. Jak was a kind, good person. He protected people. He never fought unless he had to. And he'd certainly never killed so thoughtlessly before. Only in self defense, with the exception of Gol and Maia. And even then he'd only fought them because the alternative had been a world flooded in dark eco.

How could he have done such a thing...?

"He wasn't always in control." Sig's voice jolted her out of her thoughts, and she looked back up at him. "Bastard staged a coupe 'bout... eighteen years ago, now. Before that, there was a king." He glanced at her with his good eye, raising his brow again. "But back to the present. You don't look like you're from the Water Slums. Don't smell like it, either. What were you doing back there?" His eye moved to the pack still on her back.

She flushed, annoyed at the thought that he was examining her in such a way even as she had done the same to him. "None of your business." She told him curtly.

That just seemed to amuse him. "Easy, chilli pepper. Just curious." They walked in silence for a way more before he added, with a sly grin. "Y'know you don't have to keep following me now. Pretty sure you're safe here. That Dark Warrior only goes where the Baron orders 'im to. Better trained than a crocadog."

This time the blush reached the tips of her ears and she huffed in irritation. Daxter stood up, grabbing her hair for balance and waved a tiny fist in Sig's face.

"Jak _ain't_ a crocadog! And he's no monster, or freak, or anything they been sayin' about him! And you _better_ remember that, buster!"

Sig stopped, now fully facing the pair of them, and gave Daxter an appraising look. Daxter faltered under the stare and sank back down to Keira's shoulder, but his glare didn't let up for a moment.

"I see there's more to you two than meets the eye."

"Well you only got one."

"_Daxter!_" She didn't want to antagonize the man, even if he seemed to ignore the quip.

"You know him, then?" He asked, looking between them. His tone was utterly serious now, and there was no hint of his grin on his face. Keira shifted uneasily, wondering if she could still try to cover up Daxter's outburst with a well thought out lie.

"Yes." She said, finally, giving up on the idea of wiggling out of the conversation. Probably not a good idea to reveal too much of their story to a stranger, though, so she was cautious with her wording. "We grew up with him. But when we- when he was taken, we had no idea what happened to him. We didn't know he was being turned into the Baron's weapon."

"Mm." Sig watched them for a few moments, then straightened up. "So you wanna help him?"

Daxter answered before she could, this time "We wanna get _our_ Jak back, if that's what you're askin'." He said, frowning. "We could care less about the Baron and his crappy war."

Sig scoffed, though it seemed more at the mention of the Baron than the statement about Jak. He looked across the water, pensive, then turned back to the duo.

"Way I see it, you got two options here. You need resources and intel, and people with connections. I know of only two groups that have that in Haven right now. One, you could go work with Krew,and his gang," Keira's face twisted in revulsion; working for that slimeball crime lord was at the bottom of her list of things she'd ever do. Sig nodded a little, sympathetically. "Though you might feel that way. Your other option is to make ties with the Underground. Though, the way that the Baron's been destroying whole neighborhoods to rat'em out, they may be a dyin' breed already."

"Well that's just great." Muttered Daxter, folding his arms. "Either we work for cutthroat gangsters or we work with people getting' killed every day."

"But if it's the only way to help Jak..."

"I know." The ottsel pat her shoulder. "We gotta get our buddy back, before he does anythin' like _that_ ever again." There was no need to ask what he meant by 'that.'

"So, hypothetically," Keira began, tapping her fingers together. "If someone were to, say, want to join either of those groups you just mentioned, where might they, um, possibly to go find them?"

Sig pointed across the artificial bay, towards where he'd been looking earlier, and both she and Daxter turned to look. A bar, one of the seedier joints in this district, was lit up on the other side of the water.

"The Hip Hog is as good a place as any for finding things." He told them. "Or losing them."

Keira opened her mouth to ask what he meant, then shut it and nodded, reaching out to shake his hand. "Thank you, Sig. We owe you one."

"Just buy me a drink next time we see each other. And give me the full story on you guys 'n Jak." He clapped her hand in his own. "Good luck, cherries. Tell Tess I said hello."

–

The bar smelt of stale sweat and cigar smoke, and there was a haze in the air that made breathing seem disgusting. The whole place had a thin layer of grime, despite the barmaid's attempts at wiping down the counter.

Keira caught the blonde barmaid's eye as she approached the bar, uncertainly, and smiled a little at her. Daxter saved her the need to try and hide her nervousness, however, because jumped from her shoulder to the counter top and purred at the pretty blonde. It was all Keira could do to not roll her eyes; while Daxter had eased off on the flirting with her, she wasn't at all surprised that he was picking it up again with other women.

"Hey baby," He grinned up at the barmaid and waggled his eyebrows. "Guess I can see why this place gets any business, angelface, with _you_ manning the bar."

Keira opened her mouth to apologize on Daxter's behalf, wishing she'd had a chance to make a different first impression, but the blonde smiled and began to laugh. "Well, it definitely isn't the liquor, that's for sure!" She reached down and scratched Daxter behind the ears, and his grin only widened

The mechanic stared between them, unsure of what to even _say_, before the barmaid looked up at her.

"Oh! Where are my manners – welcome to the Hip Hog! I'm Tess, by the way. Can I get you two anything?"

"I'm Keira. That's Daxter." The mechanic smiled back, briefly. "And, actually, I was looking for some info?" Keira bit her lip, glancing around the bar to make sure they were alone. "Sig said to come here if we, um, wanted to... meet with the Underground?"

Tess paused in her scratching to really look at Keira, and she shuffled a little under the blue stare. Not as bad as Sig's, but she still felt like a child who'd just cussed in front of a parent. But then a sly, secretive smile crossed Tess's face and she leaned closer over the bar, beckoning Keira to lean in as well.

"Sig sent you?"

"He did." Keira fidgeted again.

"You're serious about meeting with them?" The blonde's gaze was harder now, but the mechanic was unfazed. She simply nodded, and her voice grew firmer.

"Yes."

Tess smiled again. "There's an alleyway in the back of the tenement district, in the corner of the city, by the wall." She whispered, conspiratorially. "Go there tonight, after sundown, to meet someone who can evaluate you. You'll get a chance then, okay?"

"Okay." Keira whispered back, feeling the ball of anxiety growing in her chest give a little twist. Between watching her childhood friend destroy a whole neighborhood, meeting Sig, and now having to go deal with the Underground, it was turning into a very long day. And she wasn't going to have time to just sit and deal with the mess of emotions until it was over.

But it had to be done if they had any chance of recovering Jak. She could- she could deal with it later. Had to keep pressing forward.

Right.

Daxter seemed to notice her faltering, because he quickly got Tess' attention again, distracting the blonde with a story from his bug-hunting days – with many Daxter-like embellishments, of course.

Keira took the time to sink into a bar stool, her head in her hands, as she began forcing calm. That night, after meeting with the Underground. That was when she could talk to Daxter about everything. Hell, even just think about everything that had happened. It took a few minutes for her to relax again, and when she looked up Daxter was well into the tale.

"...was surrounded by Metal Bugs, hundreds of them! They were crawlin' everywhere! Floor to ceiling, spittin' and hissin', just waitin' for a taste of ottsel. But they were no match for _Orange Lightning!_" He struck a heroic pose, and Tess giggled a little, seeming quite content to listen to his outrageous tale. "By the end of the day, I'd bagged a _thousand_ skull gems. No bug _ever_ set foot in that cannery again."

"How _brave_." Keira wasn't sure if Tess's tone was genuinely awed or teasing.

"That's _right_." Daxter grinned, hands on his hips and thoroughly enjoying the barmaid's hand rubbing his fur. "But _someone_ had to step in for that poor fishmonger, y'know?"

Daxter chattered away with Tess for a while longer before Keira eventually stood up, getting both of their attention.

"I think it's time for us to go. I need to drop off my stuff before I go and- and meet with whoever's there." Not to mention to grab a weapon; Tess seemed nice enough but if she'd learned anything over the last two years it was that it was best to be prepared for anything, especially after dark. A shady alleyway in the back of the city? Definitely something she wanted to be prepared for.

"Aw, alright." Tess gave Daxter one last scratch before straightening up and grabbing her rag again. "Good luck! And feel free to come back sometime. It's nice to have someone to talk to."

Daxter jumped onto Keira's shoulder again, winking at Tess. "As if anythin' could keep me away, sweetcheeks."

Deciding not to comment, Keira waved her farewell to the barmaid before leaving the Hip Hog, making her way back towards the Stadium.

–

As it turned out, she didn't have as much in the way of protection as she would have liked. No guns – she didn't know how to use one, much less knew how to acquire one – and had only small tool knives. A crobar could be a serviceable weapon, she supposed. Maybe a screwdriver, but that would require an attacker to get close.

In the end she had opted for a wrench, one of her heavier ones, and tucked it into a belt loop. Layered over everything, half hiding the makeshift weapon, she pulled on one of her thick canvas jackets, then the shoulder guard Dax used as his perch.

"This doesn't seem shady at all." Daxter hopped off her shoulder as she parked her zoomer, waving a hand at the darkened alleyway in front of them. They were near a streetlamp, and everything beyond its cone of light was almost pitch black. "Lotsa shadows, nobody around, a nice dead end, what could _possibly_ go wrong?"

"Dax, can it." It unnerved her, too, but she didn't need him pointing it out. He grumbled, muttering under his breath, but thankfully didn't say anything else directly to her. Hesitating for a moment or two, she finally willed herself into action and stepped into the alleyway and out of the light..

"Um, hello?" She called out, wishing her eyes would adjust faster. "Is anyone here? I was told to, uh, meet someone."

Silence greeted her words, and as the alley became clearer she could see nobody there. Not even a stray muse cat.

Damn. Maybe this was just a prank of some sort on Tess' part. With a sigh she moved to turn around, then froze at the sight of a silvery blade raised up to her throat.

"Don't move." A voice – male – rasped to her. He was between her and the light, so she could only make out a silhouette. Tall, lean, and from the glints on his shoulders and arms, he wore some amount of armor.

Keira raised her hands slowly, showing she was unarmed, but otherwise made no move to retaliate. Daxter, however, squawked immediately.

"_Hey!_" He climbed back up onto Keira's shoulder to better face the man. "What's the big idea? The hell are you doin' pointing that at us?" The knife tip moved from Keira's throat to Daxter's, and he shrank back a little, his moment of bravado gone.

"Is the Baron hiring children now?" The man shifted a little, and Keira caught sight of Tess flanking him. Instead of her previous cheery smile, however, her face was set and stern, and she was holding a large gun. Not pointed at them, thankfully, but clearly at the ready. "Another ploy to find our hideouts?"

"No!" Despite herself she felt indignant. Of all the things to be accused of – that was almost as bad as working for _Krew_.

"If you were supposed to have Guard backup, there aren't any. We've already done a sweep. You're all alone here." He stepped forward, knife still held up, and Keira quickly backpedaled. "What are you doing here, then, if you're not an informant?" His tone made it clear he doubted she was anything but, and she grit her teeth.

"I need help catching J- The Dark Warrior." She told him, as firmly as she could. "I- We can't do it alone, I know that. Which is why I need your help."

"_Catch_ him?" The man was genuinely surprised, and lowered his knife. "Kid, do you have any idea what you're thinking of doing? That thing is a monster."

Daxter hissed from her shoulder. "Jak is _not_ a monster! Whatever that Baron bozo did to 'im, he's still a _person!_" It was the second time that day he'd defended his friend and, frankly, he was getting tired of people assuming the worst about his best buddy.

"A person who displays very few signs of humanity." Was the curt reply. "I don't know if you two know this, but he leveled the Water Slums today. To. The. Foundations. Everyone they didn't arrest got killed."

"Everyone?" Whispered Keira, a splash of shock running like icy water down her spine. _Everyone?_ All of those people? She'd thought- she'd thought Jak had just been breaking up the fights. Shoved a few people aside, sure. Scared them. Maybe.. maybe killed a few of them. But so many people? An entire district?

What if she hadn't been able to slip away?

"Almost." He confirmed. "A few were able to escape, but not many. Not enough. The Baron's attack dog is either out of control or the Baron views them all as disposable. Given the way things have been deteriorating, I'm guessing it's the latter."

Keira found herself unable to speak for a few moments, her mind still stuck on the horrifying scenario of having to fight her friend. Daxter recovered faster than she did, however, and squeezed her shoulder a little.

"Which is exactly why we gotta help him. The Jak we knew would never have wanted that. We're goin' after him, with or without you guys. But, y'know, it'd be a lot easier if we helped each other out."

"I-I'm a mechanic." Keira offered, quickly, unsure of what else she had to barter with. All she really had were her skills; she wasn't swimming in cash, she had no real connections outside of the racing circuit, and she wasn't exactly a skilled fighter.

The man just cocked his head a little, but she couldn't see his expression.

"You knew him, before he became the Dark Warrior. You know how he thinks, at least a bit. So. You loop us in on his mindset, as best you can, and we see what we can do from there to take him down. On top of that, you might be asked to run a few missions, just to help us out."

"We won't help you kill him." She replied sharply, on edge again. "We can fix him." They _had_ to. And if they could find her dad then- then surely he'd know what to do for Jak, right? The could undo whatever the Baron did.

Precursors, she hoped they could.

"...Very well." The man folded his arms. "We'll try to capture him. But if he fights too hard, if we don't get another chance, we're going to stop him. He's a danger to everyone, wherever he goes. Do you understand?"

Ugh, it felt like being sucker-punched. He was right, at least in part. The destruction of the Slums was testament to that. But she couldn't give up on Jak, not so soon. So she nodded, grimacing, unable to see a way to get the Underground's cooperation otherwise.

"Good." He stepped around, letting her see his face finally, and she gasped and stepped away, and Daxter swore. KG tattoos were scrawled over his eyes and down his neck. This was a set up. They were going to be arrested. They-

"My name is Torn." He told them shortly, pointedly ignoring their panicked reactions to his tattoos. He'd probably gotten it a lot.

Wait. Torn? Torn the defector? Erol had mentioned him once or twice, and never in a flattering light. Not that he ever spoke well about anyone involved in the rebel group. Keira swallowed, giving him a once-over, then straightened a little. Okay. Defector. So he wasn't going to arrest them.

And he really _was_ part of the Underground.

"I'm Keira, and he's Daxter." She finally said, warily, gesturing up to the ottsel. Tess had probably filled Torn in on their names, but she saw no harm in making sure. If she was going to be working with these guys then they'd need to at least be professional. While she didn't think she could be friendly with someone who had spoken of killing one of her childhood companions, no matter how dangerous that companion now was, she could at least be civil.

"Hey, tattooed wonder, does this mean we get some of those fancy guns? 'Cause I gotta tell ya, having one of those around would be pretty _sweet_."

Now that the danger was more or less behind them, the ottsel on her shoulder was back to being his usual fast-talking self.

"If you guys prove yourselves to us, we'll get you set up." He waved a hand, and movement from the rooftops caught their eyes. Snipers. Just in case. "This won't be fun and games, kid."

"_Keira_." She shot him a half-hearted glare at his continued use of 'kid,' but it was mostly to mask her worry over what was going to happen next.

"Right then. Keira. You and your mangy rat start work tomorrow morning. Come back here for your test run assignment."

"This 'mangy rat' has a name! What, do they take out all yer basic manners when you join the KG?"

Torn's eyes narrowed – clearly Dax had hit a sore point – but he didn't bother replying. Instead he looked back to Keira, waiting for her answer.

"Okay." Tomorrow, then. Tomorrow they could get started on... everything. Get the trust of the Underground, meet people, make connections. Then find a way to catch Jak and... and help him. Somehow.

It wasn't much of a plan, but it was something.

As she walked back to her zoomer Tess waylaid them, giving her an apologetic look.

"Sorry for the rough treatment." She mumbled, looking between the pair. "But we can't just accept everyone who asks around, y'know?"

"No problem, darlin'." Daxter cut in smoothly, his eyes sliding up and down her. He growled, clearly pleased with what he saw. "You do look _damn_ fine with a gun, so it wasn't all bad."

Tess giggled again, good mood back in place. It was obvious that she knew how to use the weapon in her hands, though, from the way she carried both it and herself. It wouldn't do to underestimate her in the future.

After their brief goodbyes Keira hopped back on her zoomer, Daxter settling around her neck like a living scarf, and they took off, heading home as it began to drizzle.

–

Daxter was asleep in his blanket-lined crate, snoring softly. The garage was locked up tight, her zoomer tucked away and covered with a tarp. The precursor artifacts she'd picked up earlier in the day were sorted and put in their places. An alarm was set to wake her up bright and early to begin her Underground work. Teeth were brushed, her clothes exchanged for dry pajamas, and now curled up in bed with the day's chores completed.

Left with nothing else to keep her mind occupied, nothing to distract herself with, Keira put her head in her hands and let out a stuttering breath as the enormity of the day's events hit her.

She prayed to the Precursors that they weren't going to be too late.


	5. Chapter 4 - The Pumping Station

ive gotten fanart for this fic this is incredible. thank you guys so so so much. the response is overwhelming. i hope you continue to enjoy this story.

in response to Lord Jaric: well, yes and no. this fic will see her relationships with _everyone_ grow and change over time, but whether or not they'll have a romantic spin remains to be seen. the way i have it planned now, no, there's no overt romance (besides maybe tess and dax?) but don't let that stop you from squinting at hints i leave anyway.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

There was no way to know what the assignment would be in advance, so there was little she could do to prepare for anything specific. She put on her sturdy, metal-toed work boots, thick purple cargo pants, her canvas jacket. She packed her small tool set into one pocket, a few extra bolts and lug nuts in another, along with her spot welding kit. A few packets of green eco were tucked away safely as well, just in case.

And of course, her heavy wrench from the night before was hanging from her belt loop.

Keira stared at herself in the mirror, hoping she looked competent and capable instead of as nervous as she felt. This might be the only chance she got to prove herself to Torn that she could be of use to the Underground, and she didn't want to screw it up.

Daxter had no such concerns, simply strapping his goggles and leather cap back into their usual place on his head and pulling his gloves over his hands.

"Yeah, yeah, you're hot stuff. We both know." He quipped, nudging her knee and winking up at her. "Now c'mon, before mister anger issues changes his mind."

She smiled down at him, reassured by his words, and nodded. Daxter had always had a knack for saying something to soothe her rumpled nerves, even when they'd been children. Granted, he'd mostly used that ability for Jak.

Perhaps the reason he was so good at reading body language was because that was how he'd communicated with their then-mute friend.

She did add one last touch, though, grabbing her own set of goggles and fastening them around her neck, where they'd stay until they were needed. They were rated to handle welding and hammer impacts, so they'd likely handle whatever Torn threw at them. And, well, it was something familiar. A callback to the days in Sandover when her biggest worry was just fitting together her A-Grav prototype, and making sure Jak and Daxter didn't get into too much mischief.

Keira allowed herself the nostalgia for a few moments before shoving it aside in favor of her usual focus. Time to get to Torn.

–

When they arrived it quickly became apparent that Torn was not in a good mood.

Keira and Daxter exchanged looks as he growled over a map with several other rebels, pointing at various places and muttering things too low for her to hear.

She hovered by the doorway, between rows of bunks, and waiting for his little meeting to be over with. Daxter, bored, began complaining not long later.

"He's the one who asked us to come here. You'd think he'd have at least given us the courtesy of our own timeslot." He grumbled, the tip of his tail flicking against her back. "Almost as bad as ole greenstump; he was never prompt neither, but _Precursors help us _if we showed up three minutes late..."

Eventually the group of rebels left, moving with purpose as they filed past her out the door, and Torn motioned for her to come closer.

"Busy morning?"

"The Baron's turned off the water to the entire slums. Tenements and all." He growled, not looking up from his map. "He's going to kill half the city just to wipe us out."

Keira frowned, not quite surprised that the Baron would resort to such measures to kill one group of people. Not after yesterday.

"Is there anything we can do?"

Torn glanced at them, grimaced, then straightened up. "Looks like your test is gonna be a bit different than I planned. There's a pumping station just outside the city, up some cliffs. If you can get there and turn the water back on, that'd be worth something to us."

Something useful. She was good at that.

Keira nodded, face serious, but Daxter broke in.

"Wait, wait, _wait!_ Outside the city?" He glared at Torn. "Ain't monsters supposed to be out there?"

"There's Metal Heads, sure. But none of the big ones come too close to the city. And if they did, we'd have bigger problems than a shutoff valve." His tone was more than a little condescending; obviously in a very bad mood, and Daxter's griping was doing little to help. "You said you were a mechanic. This should be right up your alley."

"We'll do it." Keira put in quickly. Though she had few real weapons, she knew this was probably the one and only chance they'd get to get in on Torn's good side. And besides that, she couldn't bear the thought of the people in the Slums having to deal with one more hardship. Most of them didn't have passes to get into other sectors of the city and would die in days without water.

"Then get going." Torn turned back to his map, marking out points with a pen and making small notes. "If you're not back by the end of the day I'll assume you're dead, and send someone else to finish the job for you."

Keira bit back a retort; it felt like he was insulting their ability to get things done, but she had to remind herself that the problem was one too dire to be left up to one plan. One _test_. He'd _have_ to have backups. She would, if she were in his shoes.

Ignoring Daxter's squawks, she turned and left the hideout after he'd pointed out the exit she'd need to take. In the Water Slums.

Fantastic.

–

The engine of her zoomer was just about the only sound in the entire district. Occasionally there was a creak as some of the half-destroyed wooden paths shifted, or a splash as something fell or collapsed under its own weight.

But even their breathing seemed loud here. Frighteningly so, in a place that had once had so many people.

"Jak did this?" Daxter's voice in her ear nearly startled her off of her vehicle.

"I... guess so." She murmured back, staring down at what was left of the Water Slums.

Nothing above one story remained now. Over half of the walkways were gone, or splintered so badly as to be unusable. Wreckage poked up from the grimy water near the broken buildings.

And there was more than one body still floating in the muck.

Keira pressed her lips tightly together and revved her zoomer on, zipping over the broken district towards the small doorway set into the wall. She couldn't bear to be here for too long.

The ottsel on her shoulder was silent, for once not complaining as she landed hard after jumping off her zoomer. The doorway's gears rolled and clicked as it opened, reverberating. It was only when it closed behind them and the outer door began to slide apart that either of them broke the silence.

"So..." She shuffled her feet, waiting for the giant cog to slide into place. "Shutoff valve. Shouldn't be too hard to find."

"Baby, I've hunted metal bugs all over the city. One little vale won't be too tough." He was as eager as she to pull their thoughts from what they'd just flown over.

The beach on the other side of the door was almost pretty, the sand clean and white in the sunlight. Grass and trees grew in thick patches, and the air was clean and pure outside the shield wall. A harsh contrast to the inside.

But of course, there were the dangerous creatures. Anyone who'd want to leave the city would have to contend with these monsters, and besides, this bit of land was just an outcropping. Not nearly large enough to actually house more than a few dozen people.

Keira had never seen a live Metal Head in person before. She'd seen pictures, certainly, and had seen the heads that hung as trophies in the Hip Hog. But it wasn't the same.

Two of the creatures were prowling the beach, yellow gems crackling with inner energy and glowing as much as their eyes did. Easily coming up to chest height while on all fours, they both turned when the door clanged shut behind her.

Keira froze for a split second, realizing for the first time exactly what she was going to be dealing with, before grabbing her wrench and sprinting for the pumps that rose and fell next to the first set of cliffs. There appeared to be a path up there that wound around the hill, and given the lack of anywhere else to go it seemed like the best place to start with.

That and, well, she didn't see any creatures up there.

The Metal Heads charged down the shore towards them, snarling and howling, flecks of dark eco crackling over their teeth. They almost collided with her near the pumps, stumbling over each other in their haste to tear into her.

She clubbed one in the head, knocking it to the side with her wrench. Her arm tingled with the force of impact and the creature lay stunned, but the other one took the opening to strike. Keira cried out and pulled back almost too late, her shirt and jacket both now with huge rends in them.

She scrambled back onto the pump just as it began to rise again, but the Metal Head jumped and tried to claw its way up. Daxter called out a warning as she began kicking at its paws to get it to let go, and she looked up as the other one came running. It used its brethren's back as a springboard and jumped up onto the pump with her, jaw opened wide. The tang of dark eco stung her nose, burned her eyes, made her react before thinking.

The wrench came down again, this time smack in the middle of the skullgem. It popped free and the creature collapsed against her like a rag doll, breath hissing out of it. She fell back under its weight with a startled cry, onto the solid cliff, and quickly struggled out from beneath it with her makeshift weapon held high.

No need for more violence, however. It lay still, eyes no longer glowing, and dark eco began to seep out of it. She pulled back in disgust, then looked down the cliff where the other Metal Head had fallen back and was now pacing around, growling. It could not reach them up here, thankfully, but she didn't want to stick around and wait for it to try. The skullgem from the dead one rolled to a stop against her leg and she picked it up, surprised by how smooth it was even with the heavy blow it had taken.

With a start she realized her shoulder felt too light and began looking around for Daxter, fearing he'd been knocked off or swallowed whole by one of them.

"_Yeesh!_" A furry orange arm emerged from under the creature, followed quickly by another. Daxter pulled himself out from under the dead Metal Head, brushing dark eco off of his fur and glaring at the monster. "And I thought the _bugs_ were nasty."

"Dax-" Was he okay? She stared at him, waiting for the shrieks of pain that would surely arise from contact with the nasty ooze, but they never came. He just blinked at her, confused, then looked down at the puddle of dark eco.

"I'm immune." He told her. "Well, mostly. One of the perks of bein' small 'n fuzzy. 'Course, it does mean green eco takes longer to work. But, y'win some, y'lose some." The ottsel paused, then frowned to himself. "Huh. Never really had to think about it before. Never had to, with Jak around to channel the stuff." He padded over to the edge as he spoke, then looked down at the other Metal Head and stuck his tongue out.

"We have to go back that way." She reminded him, getting to her feet and brushing the dust off her pants. The right side of her jacket was ruined, as was the shirt underneath it, and she sighed when she examined them. Damn. "Don't rile it up."

"Like it isn't already," grumbled Dax, before hopping up to her shoulder again.

The rest of the climb went a bit more smoothly. There were metal heads all over the beaches below, and a few on the little rocky platforms between bits of machinery, but they were smaller than the ones near the entrance of the city and were more easily handled. Daxter scurried off to distract them so Keira could get in closer and smash the skullgems.

The jumps were a bit hard, though. She'd never been as athletic as Jak, and while she was fit and strong, she lacked his gymnastic ability. Daxter, small as he was these days, could do little to help her.

Halfway up the station they took a small break. Keira sat down with a sigh, her legs dangling over the edge of the walkway, and looked out at the sea.

Haven city on one side and the mountains on the other, the water on this side of the island was framed with looming shadows. The sun was high in the sky now, the morning mist long since burned away. Daxter sat down next to her and flopped back, happily stretching out. The outcropping from above shaded them from the heat of the sun, and the sea breeze ruffled her hair and his fur. It reminded her of something.

"Sure is nice out here." She mumbled, putting her chin in her hand as she looked out at the water. Kras City was supposed to be somewhere across the ocean. The city of racers. She'd toyed with the idea of going there once or twice but had always banished it away, knowing she needed to find her father and her friends. But the idea still hung there, of working and maybe even racing in a city that seemed to float on the waves.

Something that she knew wasn't going to come true. But it was nice to daydream.

"Sure is."

They sat together for a while after that, listening to the waves down below and the birds calling overhead. She thought he may have actually fallen asleep. It hit her, eventually, what this place made her think of.

Sandover. Home.

Something in her chest twisted. It was like home. But not; home didn't have a pumping station, or polluted air, or Metal Heads. And yet...

In a way, she knew it was Sandover. Sandover after five hundred years of war, of construction. Sandover after the eco hero and the green sage vanished and was left to the mercy of the Metal Heads and King Mar.

She'd known for a long time that this place was the future. She'd known it ever since she'd seen the coordinates the Rift Rider had read out before crashing them here. Longitude and latitude had been the same as where they'd started, but the chronometer had told her something else.

She'd thought it had been faulty. Now she knew better.

It was the reason she'd worked so hard on the Rift Rider now; if there was any way for them to return to their own time, that was it.

Keira sighed and stood up, deciding they'd spent long enough sitting around. Daxter, apparently not as asleep as she'd thought, got up and stretched again before climbing up an offered arm to his usual perch.

"Should probably fix up the pump before the _Krimson Dropout_ comes lookin' for us."

She laughed, her melancholic mood gone with a flash of his humor, and continued on up the path.

The controls for the pumping station had been sabotaged. The wheel that was supposed to control the flow of clean water had been removed entirely, and the pipes leading away had been disconnected at three joints. Keira frowned, chewing her lip as she looked at the pieces.

Plumbing was different from mechanical work, but they were related practices. Figuring this out shouldn't be too hard, even for someone self-taught as she was.

The wheel was easy; her wrench fit over the groove like a glove, so turning it was a non-issue. The problem was that she lacked any sort of rubber sealant for the joints to make them watertight again, and she was leery about welding anything together.

In the end she was left with little choice, using her tiny spot welder to put the pieces back together and hooking them up to the main pipe again, squinting through her goggles at the mess made of it all. It was a thin seal, thinner than she'd have liked, but it would do until Torn could get someone with extra scrap metal up here to thicken it up.

Wiping her brow with a gloved hand, she tucked away her kit before standing up and brushing dirt off her knees and admired her work, pulling her goggles back down to rest around her neck once more. Yes, it would do just fine.

With one more check to make sure everything was in order, she grabbed her wrench, set it in place, and heaved, slowly pulling the central bolt around and around until the rumbling in the pipe alerted her to the fresh water that now poured through it.

At the same time an intake valve above her whooshed into life, sucking in air to help make up for the vacuum the sudden surge had left inside the sea-water purifier. Her hair flew up for a second, and the brief noise was just about deafening after the quiet that had preceded it.

It was so loud, in fact, that she didn't hear the soft clicks of claws on the metal platform.

Something huge collided with her back, knocking her off the cliffs, and she cried out in shock. Snarling in her ear alerted her to the fact that the Metal Head from the beach had followed them up after all, and now sank its claws, knife-sharp, into her arm and side. They tumbled down the rocky face of the pumping station, a struggling mass, before crashing into the sand of the beach.

Keira was left winded and very badly bruised – maybe even with a broken limb, she couldn't tell – and with a hissing Metal Head atop her.

Teeth snapped inches from her face as she barely raised her wrench in time to catch the deadly jaws. It howled at her, frustrated, and tried to gnaw through the metal, rank breath blasting over her face with each ferocious roar.

Daxter was screaming at her from far above but she couldn't pay him any heed, lost in the pain of dark eco-laced claws digging into her with every lunge, and far too distracted trying to keep the monster from tearing her face off.

It finally ripped the wrench from her grip and flung it away, leaving her with nothing to defend herself. The monster hissed and struck down; Keira closed her eyes, feeling the sting of eco on her skin and knowing there was nothing she could do now.

A purple light flashed through her eyelids and the weight was suddenly gone. She flinched and scrambled away, eyes snapping open to see the metal head blown to pieces. She panted, staring at the severed remains, then looked back towards the entrance to Haven.

Sig stood there, staff – no, it was a rifle. A huge rifle – in hand, then smoothly lowered it and trotted over to her to offer a hand up.

"Damn, rookie. You just about had it there."

She couldn't speak, still in shock, but gripped his hand and let him haul her to her feet. Daxter came sliding down the hillside, throwing himself off the pumps, then come sprinting through the sand towards them.

"_Keira!_" Voice pitched high with worry, he skidded to a halt and looked up at her helplessly. She blinked down at him, clutching the worst of the lacerations in her side, then glanced back to Sig.

"Th-thank you," She whispered, still shaking. Now that the panic was fading she began to really feel her wounds. Her whole body ached from the bad tumble down, and she feared her arm might be badly dinged, but nothing was broken as far as she could tell. The Metal Head had actually taken the brunt of the impacts, but it had been a lot sturdier than she and had barely seemed injured.

The more pressing wounds were the long cuts where it had clawed her, and which were now bleeding slowly through her ripped clothing.

"Easy, cherry." A huge hand was on her shoulder – when had that happened? – and suddenly Sig was sitting her back down, against one of the palms that grew near the water's edge. She'd been swaying in place and only now that she was stable did she realize it. "Let me look at you. That was a nasty tussle you had goin' there." His fingers probed her side, earning a hiss of pain from her.

"Got health packets," She reached into her pocket and fished around for them, holding them up for him to use. "Should – _ow_ – should help."

The green eco made her think of her father as it soothed the throbbing, numbed away the injuries. They began to itch instead, stitching together slowly as they watched. It would be a while before she would be back to normal, but this would speed up the healing process by days, if not weeks.

"You were lucky I was out here huntin' trophies for my boss." Sig pulled out a first aid kid of his own, taking bandages and carefully wrapping up her arm. "You'dve been metalmeat otherwise. The hell were you thinkin' anyway? Where's your gun?"

Keira and Daxter exchanged a look.

"Torn didn't give us any. Just sent us out here to make us put the water back on without so much as a pistol." Given a new target to get mad at, the ottsel was now clearly stewing in ways to get back at Torn for this perceived offense. "He knew there were Metal Heads out here and he just let us go!"

"Ahh. Workin' with the Underground, then." Sig tied off the bandage and sat back on his heel. "Listen, greenhorn, goin' toe to toe with these things is all well 'n good if you're a strong fighter to begin with, or a wastelander. But even so, all of'em would still carry a better weapon with them than a bit of metal." Still, his face had darkened, and she wondered if he was going to be having words with Torn after this.

"But I don't have anything else." Keira felt childish saying it, knowing as she did that Sig was only being honest with her, but she couldn't help herself. She was tired and sore and _hurt_ and could already feel her limbs getting stiff.

"So get something. From Torn if you can, or from Tess. She's good with stuff like that." He stood up and grabbed his gun-staff. "Now me 'n the Peacemaker are going to go do our jobs. I'll take you back to the Hideout when I get back, if you wanna stick around. I doubt any more Metal Heads will come 'round this place for a while."

Keira nodded up at him, firmly against moving for the next few minutes at least. "Sounds good."

Without further ado, Sig turned and headed off down the beach, Peacemaker at the ready.

Daxter jumped on her the moment he was gone, gripping what remained of her jacket, and tried shaking her.

"You_ scared me to death!_" He shrieked at her. "When you went over the edge I thought you were dead for _sure!_"

She nodded slightly; she had, too. He didn't stop, however, shaking her harder.

"You gotta be more careful!"

"Coming from _you?_"

"Shut up, I'm being serious! Jak's gone and I can't help him by myself. You're all I got right now so you gotta take care of yourself!"

Ah, there was the heart of it. Even as he drew breath to continue his ranting she lifted her arms and hugged him close. He stiffened, shuddering in her hands.

"It's okay, Dax." She murmured, despite the stinging wounds that told her it very much was _not_ okay. But right now he needed this, even if he wouldn't say so outright. She was all he had in the world right now; he'd given up his exterminator job to come live with her, and he was right about Jak being... cut off from them at the moment. And who _knew_ where here father was right now.

"Y'gotta be more careful..."

"I will be. We'll go get a gun from Tess when I'm better. That'll be nice, eh?" She let him go and he sat back on her leg, smiling dreamily at the thought of the pretty barmaid. "Maybe she could teach me to use it."

"_That's_ more like it." He readjusted his goggles, smiling a little wider. "She'd love to hear how I saved you from that Metal Head."

"_Sig_ shot that one off."

"No no, the first one."

"I got it with my wrench."

"Only 'cause you had Orange Lightning here to warn you!"

She just chuckled and leaned back against the tree to rest. He was going to tell Tess whatever tale he wanted anyway, so she might as well just let him. Pleased with himself, and with the knowledge that they were going to visit the current recipient of his flirtations, he splayed out in the sand next to her as they waited for Sig to return.

–

"I will _not_ have kids dying on my watch!"

Keira held her ground as Torn towered over her, obviously furious. Though, it seemed more directed at himself than at her.

"I should never have agreed to test you. Irresponsible. Sending a fucking _kid_-" He turned abruptly and stalked towards the back wall where dozens of posters hung, muttering angrily to himself. She waited, uncertain, for him to continue. Daxter huffed in her ear, arms folded, as he leaned against her head. He was even less happy about all of this than Torn.

"Hey, tats, hold up a second." He jumped to the table, waiting until Torn turned to look their way again before he went on. "_You_ were the one who sent us out there without any weapons! So don't blame Keira for this mess-"

"I thought you had weapons! I didn't think you'd be _stupid_ enough to leave the city without one!" He pointed a finger at Keira now, glaring. "The Baron might not care about people who die while working for him but _I_ do, and I _don't_ want your blood on my hands. Got it?"

"I'm not dead."

"But you would have been. Running around without protection- sooner or later you would have been. You can't just run out in a war against monsters with _nothing_. Much less a war that has two fronts." He turned away again, clearly dismissing them. "Go home. You're done here."

Keira glared at him, her temper already frayed by the pain she was in just standing up. She would not accept failure for this. Absolutely _not_.

"Listen up, asshole." She spat, finally hitting her limit. "I didn't just spend all day long running around a damned mechanical _wreck_ of a station, fix it, get attacked by metal heads, fall down a _cliff_, and drag my ass back here just for you to _brush me off!_"

That got his attention again. He stared at her, frowning, but didn't interrupt. Even Daxter was quiet, looking startled.

"We got the water back on. The Slums should be okay on that front. Someone who knows plumbing will have to go and strengthen the joints but it's working. So there better be some sort of compensation for this, injuries or not."

Torn said nothing, did nothing, and she began to fear that she'd really pissed him off. But she didn't back down, because she knew she was right; she'd have her work recognized at the very least.

"You did what I asked." He finally conceded, sighing. "You saved a lot of lives today. The water's running clean again." There was another long pause as he evaluated her. Really, really looked at her. Then, "Go home and rest up. You'll need to be at one hundred percent to be of any use."

His way of saying that they weren't quite as done as they had been before, she assumed. His way of saying thanks. Daxter was opening his mouth to complain about his wording but Keira quickly squashed him into her arms and nodded at the rebel, ignoring the way pain was lancing through her back and side.

"Will do. Sir."


	6. Chapter 5 - Arms and Armor

**Author's Note:** poses. at long last I return. sorry for the wait guys I hope this chapter makes it worthwhile!

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Something was patting her face, and her first reaction was to shove her blanket further up to hide. She fully intended on sleeping in after the disastrous mission yesterday, and was warm and groggy and _very_ sore and thus very inclined to fall right back asleep.

"Keira! C'mon. Time to get up." The little paws pulled at her hand, and she grumbled and rolled over.

"Nnm. Five m'nutes."

Daxter's weight shifted on the mattress for a moment before it left, and she heard him land on the floor beside her bed. Pleased to have won herself some extra time, she settled back down and began to doze...

Right up until her blanket was ripped right off her, exposing her to the cold morning air.

"Daxter!" She snapped, curling up instinctively to try and preserve some of the precious heat. Lifting her head she could just see his ears over the edge of the mattress, and she scowled his way when he poked up to look at her. "Come on, really? Today's my day off and everything. Let me _sleep_."

"It's already noon, babe." The ottsel hopped back up onto the mattress. "And you've got a missed call on your comm. Not from Torn," he assured her hastily, when she tried to sit up too quickly and pulled the wounds on her side. "I tried to wake you up then but you wouldn't budge." He eyed her as she curled up, holding her torso, and cocked his head to the side. "You gonna get those looked at today? S'not like you have old green around to patch you up anymore."

"I _know_." She glared at him, then sighed and subsided. Her father was still a sore subject, especially given how he'd treated Daxter back in Sandover. But he was her _father_, and she had no way to know if he was safe. Given that, the mission, and the pain she was in, her temper was a little frayed. "Sorry."

"See, if you'd listened to me yesterday 'n gotten yourself patched up, you'd prolly be back on your feet by now 'n all good as new. But nooo." He shook his head, but then grinned a little. "Now you're gonna have to get up and eat something or you're gonna get as nasty as one of those metal heads, and I don't think a yellow gem would suit you."

"Thanks." Keira's tone was a little sarcastic, but she knew he was right. And she had to check the comm call anyway. So, after a moment to prepare, she slowly slid her legs off the bed and got to her feet, half-bent and wincing as the day-old scabs pulled a little. Green eco could only do so much, especially in the small, diluted quantities that the health kits had. At least it had been enough to keep her from being bedridden.

The young woman shuffled slowly out of her bedroom, grabbing one of the jackets off the dresser; as putting on pants and changing clothes was a little beyond her right now. Daxter bounded by her feet, keeping an eye on her as she made her way to the tiny kitchen and got started on breakfast.

Over scrambled eggs and toast she finally asked Daxter to grab her comm for her, and he obliged after being bribed with the promise of ketchup for his eggs.

The missed call had come from Farley, and Keira had to quickly think back to make sure she hadn't missed any assignments or contracts lately. Farley was usually content to let Keira sort out her own business, treating her as a responsible adult for the most part, though sometimes she did like to sling jobs her way if times were lean. Unable to recall anything, though, Keira hesitantly dialed the older mechanic after placing plates of food on the tiny dining table just outside of her kitchen, and sat down gingerly in a worn chair, feeling like she was going to snap in half at any moment if she moved wrong. Daxter clambered up onto the table and tucked in, gleefully smothering his eggs in his coveted ketchup as Keira waited for an answer.

She didn't have to wait long.

"Hello Keira, honey." Farley's comforting voice came through the speaker of the comm and Keira smiled a little, pulling her knees up so her feet rested on the seat of the chair.

"Hi, Farley. You called me earlier?"

"I sure did. My daughter just came in from Kras City, and the other kids and I are making a nice dinner to celebrate. We were wondering if you'd like to come join us."

"Oh!" Now _that_ was a tempting thought; Farley was one of the best cooks in the city as far as Keira was concerned. But she didn't feel up to leaving the house, and didn't want to show up only to keel over on Farley's doorstep. "I...I can't, tonight. I'm sorry. It's a generous offer though, thank you."

The line was quiet for a moment, then Farley spoke again. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"Huh? I- nothing..."

"You'd come and get leftovers for your little furry friend at least, or ask us to save you some for tomorrow. And your voice sounds a little rough, hon. What happened?"

Keira looked at Daxter, who only shrugged once and made a 'go ahead' motion as he loaded up his comically oversized fork with more breakfast. She hesitated one last time, then sighed, and explained yesterday's events to Farley – carefully editing out the fact that she'd done the mission for the Underground in the first place. Instead she framed it as curiosity – a simple exploration trip that had gone wrong. Farley only listened, asking a question here or there, and humming a little when Keira finished up with being too injured to do much of anything today.

"Okay hon. You stay at home today. Lia and I are gonna come and check on you in a bit, so just sit tight."

Then, before she could protest, Farley hung up. Keira sighed and started on her breakfast; wasn't like she was going anywhere that day anyway.

–

True to her word, both Farley and her eldest daughter arrived at Keira's garage less than an hour later, the former carrying a large satchel, the other holding a black leather bag. Daxter let them in after beating her to the doorway, sniffing the air when Farley walked past.

"Hey – didja bring grub?" He licked his chops and eyed the satchel, looking as though he hadn't had a good meal in days, rather than mere minutes.

"Glutton." Keira poked his head lightly as she walked up, then smiled at their two guests. "Nice to see you guys."

Farley beamed and leaned close, pulling Keira into a one-armed hug, though it was quite a bit more gentle than usual. "Glad to see you too, honey. Now, let's have a look at those injuries, shall we?" Her eyes went up and down Keira, clearly searching for the bandages. "Lia brought enough stuff to fix up a dozen rowdy kids, so she'll have you right as rain."

As Keira and Lia went to the dining table, Farley moved past them both to the kitchen so she could begin storing the food she'd brought along, of which there was several containers worth. Daxter trailed after her hopefully, face breaking into a gleeful grin when the old mechanic paused and pulled out a small parcel of waxed paper and handed it to him. A very special homemade treat, and Daxter looked up at Farley as he tucked the package close to his chest.

"You are my _favorite_ mechanic." He told her solemnly, though the effect was ruined by his grin. "Well. Second favorite. Gotta stay faithful, 'n all that."

Farley just laughed. "Little monster. I'm on to your charming ways. Enjoy the fudge."

Meanwhile Keira had removed her jacket and was pulling up her shirt to reveal the bandages properly to the young doctor, wincing as the movement pulled at her side. Lia set up a small light, angling it towards her patient, and started peeling away the bandages to get a look at the wounds themselves.

In the light they looked bad, though the green eco from the day before had done its job to at least cause the wounds to scab over. They would leave impressive scars, however, and were still incredibly tender to the touch. Keira could definitely attest to that when Lia gently prodded the skin around the worst claw wound in her side.

"Still a little dark eco in there, it looks like." Murmured the doctor, and Keira wasn't sure if she was speaking to herself or not. "Healthy scabs, at least. A little infection, but thankfully nothing too major. Doesn't seem like it hit anything vital; you'd be dead by now if it had, I think."

"Great."

"It _is_, actually. For an unarmored run-in with a metal head, I'd say you got off pretty lightly." Lia turned her attention to the wounds on Keira's arms next, gently turning the limb back and forth to get a good look. "The last autopsy I had to do was on a KG who'd been slain by a metal head. And as you know, _they_ are armed and armored."

"And trained." Added Farley, grabbing a chair from against the wall to come sit by them. Lia nodded, pulling some jars and packages from her bag and cracking them open, filling the air with a medicinal smell. Keira let out a small sigh as Lia started to smear it onto the scabs, enjoying the soothing effect the creams had. "So. Seems to me like you better get yourself some weapons, some armor, or some training. Preferably all three. That is, assuming you plan to head out 'exploring' again." With that, she cocked her head a little and eyed Keira.

Keira shuffled a little under the stare and looked away, thinking. Those weren't bad suggestions. Indeed, they were probably right. She'd gotten lucky once, but there was no guarantee she'd keep on being so. The only trouble was that she wasn't sure where to find anything like that. Sure, there were weapons dealers in the slums, but the stuff they told tended to be shoddy and overpriced, liable to fall apart at a moment's notice. Also, she didn't know how to build a gun herself.

And a gun it would have to be. The memory of the metal head's jaws snapping so close to her face made her shudder; she did not want to get that close to one _ever_ again.

A light furry paw touched her arm and she came back to reality, glancing down at Daxter.

"I think we know someone who can hook us up with at least one of those things, yeah?" He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. "A _very_ pretty someone, in fact."

She nodded thoughtfully as she realized who he'd been speaking of. Tess had been holding her gun quite confidently, and of course she could always go to Torn, if she was willing to tolerate more of his abrasive attitude.

"Whatever it is you end up doing, you better save it for tomorrow." Cut in Farley, somewhat sternly. "Those cuts aren't anything to trifle with, so you just sit and wait for yourself to heal a little more before you go about putting yourself in more danger." Keira blushed and smiled sheepishly.

"Mother's right. You open these up doing something stupid, you'll end up right back in bed. And that's assuming you don't end up with a real infection." Lia didn't even look up from her work, pulling out pads and strips of gauze to start wrapping up the wounds. "Haven isn't exactly what one would call 'sterile.'"

"No kidding." Keira sighed. "Fine. I was planning on staying in today, anyway. At least now I won't feel too guilty about it."

"Darn straight." Farley ruffled Keira's hair affectionately. Her voice took on a more serious tone after a moment. "I really do hope you're careful, Keira. With... whatever it is you're doing. Meddling with the metal heads is a dangerous business."

The young mechanic looked up at her, giving her a firm nod. "I know. I'm not doing it for no good reason, though. I can promise you that much."

–

It was hard to drive her zoomer with a very excited ottsel practically jumping up and down on the handlebars. Honestly he was a little big to be riding there anyway, but she was still too sore to hitch up the sidecar or pull on the shoulder guard he normally used as a perch, so they had to make do.

"You're wrecking our stability, Dax."

"You're a good driver!"

"And as a good driver I'm telling you to relax a little. Seriously, you've only met her two or three times."

"So? Don't you believe in love at first sight? Where's your romanticism!" Dax sighed and melted down into her lap, looking dreamily at the hazy sky. "I mean, seriously! How many other amazonian, gun-toting goddesses have _you_ seen around here?"

Keira could only roll her eyes as they flew over the water of the port, heading towards the garish glowing sign of the Hip Hog.

The bar was mostly empty, apart from a few dock workers and one KG that appeared to be on break. Tess was behind the bar as usual, and Krew was, thankfully, nowhere to be seen. The blonde looked up as the door open and beamed at them, waving them over. Keira skirted the guard in the corner, more out of habit than anything else, and went to the counter in the back.

Daxter wasted no time in hopping up, grinning when Tess almost squealed and greeted him with a friendly scratch under the chin. Keira let her eyes go up to the ceiling, but didn't comment, and waited for them to finish having their moment.

"Heya baby. Didja miss me?"

"Of course I did!" Tess smiled brightly and cooed at him for another minute before looking back to Keira. "I'm so glad to see you too! I'd heard what had happened, but you look pretty good, all things considered!" No details, not when there were other people probably listening in here. Keira nodded in response, leaning over the bar counter and resting her forearms on the polished wood.

"Got lucky. Sig was there to help me out."

"Oh! Well... Krew _did_ have him trophy hunting the other day... He doesn't go out to that area much, usually. Was it really close?"

"Really close." Affirmed Keira, grimacing a little. "Which is why I think I might need your help. I'm looking for, um, better things to use than my wrench. Something a little... safer for me?"

Tess blinked once. Twice. Then her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

"You went out _there_ without-!?" She cut herself off, though she was still looking at Keira as though she'd grown a second head. She leaned closer, dropping her voice to a low whisper. "You went out there without a _gun?_ Just with that wrench?" When Keira nodded Tess put a hand over her mouth, brows pinched. "Oh, gosh! I'm so sorry! I didn't know you didn't have any – that you needed some better tools. If I had I would've given you something sooner!"

Keira rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "Could you, um, also teach me how to use one properly? I've never..."

"Sure! Here," She straightened up and grabbed a napkin and pen from behind the counter, scribbling down an address onto it before handing it over. "My shift is over in about an hour. There's this warehouse nearby I use for my hobby. I'll meet you there and get you all set up, okay?" Her tone was cheery, and Keira couldn't help but smile in turn as she took the napkin and read it over. Seemed like the place was just across the port; an easy ride, even in her injured state.

"I'll see you there."

–

The warehouse was actually more like a shooting gallery, as Tess was happy to show them. She'd set up moving targets, ammo drops, and even a sort of game that recorded the score of anyone who took a run through it. According to Tess, it was very popular with many Underground operatives, and they even had an informal weekly tournament every Thursday, should Keira wish to join in.

For her part, Tess was apparently the one to build and maintain most of the armament of the Underground. "It's a hobby of mine," was all she said about it. Briefly, Keira wondered what Tess would consider an 'occupation.' "So! What kind of gun do you think you'll be needing?"

"Uhh..." Keira shrugged hesitantly. "Something versatile? I'd prefer to keep things at a long distance, but it'd have to be good if something came up on me, too." Her hand rubbed her arm absently. Tess nodded and started to go through some storage crates.

The guns available were varied, but basic. It was easier to keep around blank slate and modify them to the users needs rather than building a bunch of special items and trying to match them to a proper wielder. Though, apparently, Tess did have something special she'd been working on in her off time, and she excitedly pulled it out to show it to Keira.

"It's a morph gun! Kind of a rare piece of tech, but incredibly useful!" She hefted the weapon up and suddenly a yellow canister on the side sunk into the chassis and another piece, this one round and red, popped out in its place. At the same time the long barrels that had protruded from the front sank in as well, and Keira leaned closer in fascination. Even Daxter's eyed widened, and he bounced excitedly around their feet. "See? Yellow is long range, red is short. Like a rifle and a shotgun in one. Here, try holding it."

It took half an hour before Tess was satisfied with Keira's ability to at least handle the weapon properly. Shifting between ammo types was not difficult, thankfully, but the shotgun aspect of it had a very hard kick, and by the end of the lesson Keira's arm was sore again. Perhaps it would have been wiser to wait until she was a little more healed up before trying this out, but she was pleased nevertheless.

Learning how to maintain the weapon herself was easier; it reminded her of learning how to work on the zoomers of this time period, and Tess even promised to lend her the tools she'd need for free, provided she took good care of the morph gun in the first place. It would still need periodic tune ups from Tess herself, given the experimental nature of the weapon, but that didn't seem like it'd be a problem.

"I've been working on two other modifications for it, along with upgrades for the scattergun and the blaster you already have." Said the blonde, as Keira slung the weapon on a strap so it rested comfortably against her back. "I'll comm you when I get them finished so we can test them out, but I think those should be fine for now. If it starts acting up or anything just bring it back here, okay? I've worked out all the kinks I could find, but..." She shrugged once and smiled sheepishly. "It hasn't actually been field tested yet."

"If it works even half as well as it seems to here, I think I've got nothing to worry about." Keira grinned in return. "Thank you so much, Tess."

"Any time!" The taller woman stepped forward and hugged Keira tight, seeming to almost vibrate with excitement. "Oh, it's been so long since I've gotten to hand out a new gun like this! Well- not 'new' like 'unused' but 'new' like 'unique.'" She pulled back, her hands still on Keira's shoulders, and her face was a little somber now. "I hope this makes up for not having given anything to you earlier..."

Keira blinked up at her in surprise. "Don't worry about it." She said, after a moment. "I'm in one piece, so is Daxter, and we know to be a lot more careful." Daxter snorted, from somewhere by her knee, and she nudged him with her foot. "_I _know to be a lot more careful, anyway."

Ignoring Daxter's indignant squawk, Tess smiled once more and hugged Keira again, then knelt down to hug Daxter too. "Stay safe, you two. And come visit me more often! Krew is terrible company."

"Don't worry, toots, I'll be around more often." Daxter gave her a wink, making her giggle again. "Nobody should have to deal with that greaseball all day long anyway."

After they said their goodbyes, Keira left the warehouse with a lighter heart and pockets full of ammunition, the gun still slung across her back. Daxter was in a very contented mood, sighing quite a lot as he lounged between the handlebars of Keira's zoomer. It was almost cute, in a pathetic sort of way, and Keira just smilled and shook her head as she made her way through the industrial district of Haven City.

Halfway through her comm buzzed, and she maneuvered her zoomer out of the flow of traffic to hover close to the side of a building. Foot held out to brace against the metal wall of the factory, she pulled out her comm and answered.

"Kid." Torn's gravelly voice could not be mistaken. "I'm gonna need you to come in now. As in, right now. Got a vehicular problem that requires your particular... expertise. You up for it?"

Keira sighed, leaning back in the seat of the zoomer. "What kind of problems are we talking about, exactly?"

"You'll see when you get here. But it has to be today; consider this a time sensitive mission, if it helps."

Sighing again, she told him she'd be there in a few minutes and shut down the comm. Daxter was no longer smiling, eyeing the comm with distaste.

"What's the deal? He knows you were hurt a couple days ago. Can't he even give you some time off?"

"Guess not."

Keira kicked off the wall and angled her zoomer back into traffic, this time going the other way. Maybe if she did enough of these requests he would start cutting her some slack. And it wasn't like this was going to be as dangerous as the Pumping Station mission had been...

Might as well get this over with.

–

When they arrived at the hideout they realized something was not quite right. For starters, the vehicle that waited for them was a Hellcat, painted in the bright red and white of the KG forces. Secondly, an imposing, serious looking woman with the insignia of a KG general stood by the door to the Underground, and was talking to Torn. Tarps had been hung across the cul de sac where the Underground's entrance was, creating a sort of makeshift garage and casting everything into shade, so it was difficult to make out what Torn's expression was.

Keira braked her zoomer the instant she saw all of this, nearly throwing Daxter from his perch on the handlebars. He said something rather rude about it but she wasn't listening, instead focused hard on the scene in front of her. Was this a raid? Had they all been found out? She'd worked for them for less than a week, hadn't gotten anywhere with finding Jak -

Torn's head turned her way at the sound of Daxter's exclamations, as did the KG general's. Keira froze, caught between wanting to throw her zoomer into reverse to get away, and instead being caution, waiting to see what they would do so she could react accordingly.

In the end, caution won out. She stayed where she was, ready to reach back for her new weapon should the KG make any threatening movements; seemed like she might get to field test it earlier than anticipated.

Daxter was the one who broke the silence, apparently recovered from his near tumble and having spent his time eyeing the general up and down.

"Hello-o there." He whistled. "Always did like a woman in uniform."

Even from here Keira could see the stranger's eyes narrow, and Torn roll his own. She squashed Daxter down a little to silence him before setting her zoomer down and hopping off. Given that Torn hadn't used the momentary distraction to start a fight, or call for help, she could only assume that this stranger was a friend of his. That said, she didn't like the idea of making herself known to a damn KG _general_.

"Glad to see you could make it." Torn leaned against the doorway, watching them approach. The KG woman was much more intimidating up close, her expression closed off and cold as she observed them, seeming to take their measure.

"This is the mechanic you told me about?"

"Sure is." Torn tilted his head a little towards the general. "Ashe, this is Keira. She's young, but she's got potential. Her reputation as a mechanic in the racing circuit is damn good."

"I'd hope so."

Keira stopped in front of them and folded her arms, trying not to fidget under their combined gaze. When Daxter seemed about to make a comment on the general's rather interesting clothing, Keira nudged him with her foot.

"I am Ashelin Praxis." Said the woman, causing Keira to start in shock. The Baron's daughter? "My hellcat suffered damage while I was rendering assistance to some of your fellow operatives. I need it back in proper working condition before I report back to headquarters."

After a quick glance at Torn, who only motioned his head towards the makeshift garage, Keira moved past the pair of them to the cruiser that sat on several cinderblocks in the shade, starting to look it over.

"Where'd it get damage?"

"Undercarriage. A metal head managed to hang on to it from below, but I can't say what exactly it damaged while it was there."

"Mm." Keira knelt down, peering underneath the cruiser and spying several cut lines. Seemed like the metal head had managed to claw through the metal protectors and rip some of the wires and tubing apart. "I'll need some tools. Do you have any here, or do I need to go back to my garage?" She looked back towards Torn.

"We have some stuff here. Believe it or not, we took care of our own stuff before you came along." Was Torn's dry reply, and he pointed towards the back of the garage. "Think you can get it done within a few hours?"

She didn't respond until she went to examine the toolkit and the box of mismatched spare parts. Nothing very organized or very advanced here, but it would do the trick, and she nodded. Ashelin seemed to relax slightly, shoulders dropping just a fraction of an inch.

"I'll expect my Hellcat to be functional soon, then." Was all she said, before she turned back to Torn and dissappeared with him into the Underground base. Though, Keira was able to shoot Torn a 'what the hell?' look before he vanished.

Scowling to herself, Keira hauled the toolkit over to the car, ignoring the twinging of her arm and side, and after gently resting her gun against the bumper of the car, lay down to scoot under the cruiser to get to work.

It wasn't long until she felt Daxter leaning against her leg. "So. She's got you in a nasty mood. What's up?"

"Torn gives us all kinds of shit, and then it turns out he's all 'buddy buddy' with the Baron's _daughter?_" She cut the broken wires a little more aggressively than she would have admitted. "Everyone knows she's her father's right hand, and he let her right into the base! What the hell is he thinking?"

"That she's both terrifying and jaw droppingly gorgeous?"

"Daxter, seriously. Not now."

"Just sayin', lotta guys have done really stupid stuff for people like her." She could feel him shrug against her knee. "Honestly, though? I think he trusts her. Like, _really_ trusts her."

Keira snorted, reconnecting a wire as she spoke. "What makes you say that?"

"I ain't never seen that guy relax around anybody once. Not 'till now, anyway. So either the guy is _really_ thinking with his dick – and, frankly, I'm not even sure the guy isn't just having a wild love affair with his knife already, hot chicks be damned – or there's some history between them. He was part of the KG once too, remember?"

She fell silent at that, thoughtful. It was true that she didn't really know the real circumstances behind his desertion, and it was reasonable to assume he'd made friends while in the Guard. High ranking friends, too, given the fact that he'd once been a Commander himself. But... Ashelin _Praxis? _Really?

"...I still don't trust her."

"Don't have to trust her. Just have to fix her car." He patted her leg before his weight vanished. She didn't bother to look to see where he was going, instead focusing on her work. The sooner it was done, the sooner she could just get home and sleep.

True to her word, by the time Ashelin and Torn both emerged from the base, the Hellcat was running again. Keira was just testing it out, running a quick system's check as the engine hummed. It was a powerful craft, and this in particular was a customized model, having enhanced maneuverability modifications. When she was done she turned off the cruiser when the systems all came back green, hopping out and brushing her hands off, immensely satisfied.

"All fixed. Runs like a dream. You're going to need to get the bottom plate replaced, but that should be easy enough to do."

Ashelin walked to her cruiser, placing her hand on the hood with a slight smile. Then she turned and looked at Keira, nodding to her.

"You've held to your promise. Thank you, Keira." The young mechanic blinked when the KG general offered her hand out to shake. After a moment she took it, feeling the strength in Ashelin's grip. "Torn will see to repaying you for your service. I have to head back, but maybe we'll meet again." She hopped deftly into her cruiser, displaying a fluid grace that surprised Keira. "Good luck with your hunt." Added Ashelin, somewhat enigmatically, and then she was off, the cruiser lifting into the air and quickly vanishing around the corner and out of sight.

Daxter, who'd fallen asleep while Keira had worked, had woken up to the sound of the engines revving but was too late to call after her. He pouted even through a yawn, tromping back to Keira's zoomer and muttering about 'missed connections' or something like that.

Torn looked over to her when Ashelin was gone, once again leaning against the doorway with his arms folded across his chest. "Nice work, kid. Seems like your mechanic skills came in handy after all."

"Mm." Keira decided that she'd keep her feelings about Ashelin and her trustworthiness to herself, for now. It wasn't worth it to start another argument with the ex-KG. At least, not about that topic. "I got a gun today. I want to do more field missions."

Torn raised one tattooed eyebrow, his gaze sliding to the gun she once again wore against her back. "You even know how to use it?"

"Yes." Sort of. But she wouldn't let him know that.

Torn considered her for a moment, then nodded slowly. "All right. Guess you've earned it. Come back in a few days. I'll have some of the boys pull together some armor for you, since you fixed the Hellcat. Don't want you coming back in pieces next time."

Armor. A gun and armor. That made her feel much better about her chances. Some of her relief must have shown on her face, because Torn huffed once with something that might have been amusement.

"Gonna send you out with someone next time, though. I dont wan't to babysit you, but someone else can do that just fine. Besides," He cut her off when she seemed about to protest. "You need someone to show you the ropes. This kind of work is dangerous even for people who do this for a living, you hear me? And if you're still serious about going after the Baron's pet, you're gonna be sticking your neck out further than just about anyone else here. I'd suggest you take the help, and be grateful for it. I'll give you a few days to finish healin' up, then you're back on duty. Understood?"

Keira closed her mouth and nodded. At the same time there came a honking sound from her zoomer, and both of them turned to see Daxter leaning his full weight on the horn.

"I'm tired, work's done. Let's _go!_" He called to her. Beside her, Keira could hear Torn let out a long, grumbling sigh.


End file.
